


Red Stars

by DoubleSpoiler



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Multi, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-12-18
Packaged: 2019-03-26 21:05:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13865997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleSpoiler/pseuds/DoubleSpoiler
Summary: When you die, do you really deserve a second chance?





	1. Chapter 1

A world meeting. His mind had been bogged all day, being kept up all night by his own thoughts. God, how he hated traveling all the way to America for this. (Although, last month it was in Russia, and the month before it was in Finland, so the somewhat warm weather was a nice change for Yao.)

Yao looked up, hearing the impatient voice of Arthur call for him. The meeting was over, and the Englishman was itching to leave America as soon as he could. (Although, Alfred was pleading with his ally to stay, and Francis was also intent on staying for a bit longer.) Yao was lagging behind in their walk down the busy streets, and he was quite far from the group. Getting closer to them all, he could hear the random mumbled voice of Feliciano, who randomly decided to tag along since Francis was with them. What the Italian was saying, though, Yao had no idea.

"Why the bloody hell are you walking so slow?" Arthur hissed as soon as Yao came into earshot. "I made it clear I want to leave now, and I won't stand for any of you being slow-"

"Oh dear Arthur, must you be so cruel?" Francis asked, in his airy and slightly flirty voice. "Yao is just walking at a normal pace. It's not his fault you're just so impulsive."

An icy glare was shot at the Frenchman, and Arthur slowly moved his glower from Francis to Yao. "Hurry up already, moron. You're so bloody slow at something as simple as walking-"

"I'm sorry, aru." Yao interrupted, smiling slightly at the Englishman's random anger. "I didn't mean to bother you, Arthur. Sorry again, aru."

Gritting his teeth, Arthur stormed ahead, leaving Yao, Francis, Feliciano and Alfred behind. The four rushed ahead, closing in on the Englishman while he slammed his feet into the pavement. They were a strange bunch, really. Four of them chasing after the fifth, who was determined to just ignore them all and make his way home himself. And probably get lost on his way.

Somehow, Francis and Alfred convinced Arthur (Read as: Forced him or else they would promptly smack him around) to stop trying to get to the airport as soon as he could, and dragged him around with the other two. It was a funny sight, actually. Seeing Arthur kick and scream like a little child every time they turned the corner, while Feliciano skipped ahead of them, pointing out pet stores and restaurants everywhere he looked. Ignoring the shouts of annoyance from Arthur, and the squeals of joy from Feliciano, Yao was actually enjoying himself, and was slightly glad he decided to stay in America for longer than the conference. But, with Arthur's latest rant now starting, Yao's content feelings were obviously not going to last long, soon going to be replaced with a headache.

"…And I'm sick of being dragged along by you two, trying to get me caught up will all of your stupid ideas…" Arthur continued, now no longer being dragged by his wrists by Alfred and Francis.

Alfred, obviously holding in quite a few angry words, turned his head back to Arthur. "Could you shut up for just a second, you dumbass? You really have to stop getting so worked up over every single thing we do."

Arthur gritted his teeth angrily, grabbing Alfred and turning him around. "Why don't you shut up, you idiot?"

"Don't call me that!" Alfred shouted, glaring at the Englishman. Reverting back to his childish like personality, he started to bicker with the other man.

"Then don't call me some stupid name!" "But that's what you are!"

Feliciano pouted at their dispute, blinking slowly at the others. He looked at Yao. "Yao, could you please make them stop?"

Yao looked confused. "Why ask me, aru? You obviously know that they don't listen to me, aru." He said, his words almost silenced by Arthur's angry shouts and Alfred's insults.

Feliciano smiled weakly. "But, I think they'll listen to you better than me. I don't think they know me as well as you or big brother Francis."

Yao could practically feel the pride radiating off the Frenchman when he heard that, as the blond turned around with glee.

"I…I never knew you still saw me as your 'big brother', Feliciano!" Francis said, promptly hugging the Italian with an overdramatic smile. Tightly wrapping his arms around him, the blond man swayed slightly, almost choking Feliciano, who looked practically mortified ad the sudden show of strong affection.

"F-Francis, I think you're choking him, aru…" Yao said wearily, watching Feliciano try and pull from the forceful embrace with fear enveloping his expression.

Sighing, Yao glanced from the two, over to Alfred and Arthur. He didn't know what sight was more weird; Francis and his tightly locked hug around Feliciano's neck, or Arthur now strangling Alfred's throat while the American tried to tug at the other man's hair. People passing them all stared at the strange sight before them, mumbling things about how "The guy with the thick-looking eyebrows may be some psychopath." or "Is that poor boy able to breathe in that hug?"

Minutes later, Feliciano had managed to pull from Francis, and was now trying to cower behind Yao. Alfred had also gotten out of being the victim to Arthur's wrath, while the Englishman was being restrained by Francis. Slightly amused about how different their moods were now, Yao smiled while he led them all down the sidewalks once again. The two or three people who were watching from afar looked bewildered at how calm the group seemed now, (Well, all of them expect Arthur, who was still glaring at Alfred with a homicidal stare) in contrast to how they were acting just seconds beforehand.

"So, then, how much longer until we all leave?" Arthur mumbled, seeming much more calmer than before. "I mean, the sun looks like it's going down, I think none of us want to walk back in the dark."

Alfred turned his head back, looking at the other blond. "Hm. I guess we could check things out for another hour or so, if you want to…"

How did the two go from murderous to gentle in a matter of minutes?

Francis took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "Hm. I agree with Arthur, I don't think we really want to walk, or drive, if we're lucky, all the way back the way we came. Honestly, these streets look all the same, it's disturbing."

"How about we all go stop and go back now?" Feliciano piped up, glancing over at the group. "It may take a while to get back to the airport, and if we're walking, it'll take longer…"

Strangely, the other four started talking civilized, and didn't sound like they were going to fight anytime soon. Yao was surprised by this, how the other four seemed to be talking to each other without wanting to claw out each other's throats, and how they weren't going to snap an insult out. (Then again, since Arthur was with them, that probably wasn't going to last long.)

This is how he liked things. Peaceful, calm, no fighting. He really, really hated it when they fought.

The sounds of car engines kept interrupting his thoughts, and Yao grumbled at that. He really couldn't stand the loud streets; it was giving him a headache.

"Fine, I guess we'll heave back now, then." Alfred declared, leading the small group across the street. "We should get there in an hour or two, unless we're in luck and we can get a car or something…"

Yao closed his eyes, listening to Alfred's plan quietly. His pace seemed to slow down, and he could tell he was going to be lagging behind again.

Then, a horrible sound filled his ears. Shooting his eyes open, he saw Feliciano facing him, who was on the corner of the sidewalk already. Only a few feet away, the Italian was screaming his name in fright.

His eyes suddenly noticed something coming towards him, and Yao quickly whipped his head to the right. A medium sized truck was deadly close to him, obviously not stopping.

A scared and pleading Feliciano screamed out Yao's name one last time, before the front end of the truck made contact with his body.

The horrible, painful feeling of being hit by something hard surged through his body, only it didn't stop. He was shoved down, and a sickening crunching feeling ran through him.

That's when the sight of the street left him, only seeing darkness.

_"Yao!"_


	2. Chapter 2

His eyes forced themselves open, staring up at a dimly lit ceiling. Where was he now?

Yao shifted uncomfortably, realizing what he was on. Sitting up on the futon, the Chinese man yawned. Was he at his home? No, the room was different. He could just barely remember being in this place, but he couldn't exactly remember _where_ he was.

 _Now, what time is it…?_ He thought to himself, glancing over to his right. His eyes widened when Yao saw the calendar sitting on the wall a few feet away.

The year was 1985.

Almost choking on his own yawn, Yao stared at the letters. He was sent back twenty-five years? How was this possible?

Then again… how did he survive that crash? Was this the afterlife? It seemed pretty strange, being sent back into the past after he was dead.

Then, his confused thoughts were interrupted, by a loud slamming noise. Turning his head around fast, Yao looked at the person in the doorway, his eyes soon filling with surprise.

"Aniki~!" The Korean called, smiling broadly. "About time you woke up, Aniki! You're usually up before this time!"

Yao blinked blankly at Im Yong Soo, who stayed at the entrance of the room, smiling brightly still. Getting up to his feet, he just stared at the other man, who then opened his eyes to look at Yao.

"Aniki, why are you staring at me like that?" Im Yong Soo asked, still holding his smile. "You looked surprised, anything wrong?"

Yao walked over to Im Yong Soo, and grabbed his shoulders suddenly.

"Y-You're real?" Yao asked, shaking the Korean slightly. "You… you are, Im Yong Soo…"

He giggled. "Aniki, what do you mean? Of course I'm real! Did you have a nightmare where I wasn't there?"

"N-No, not at all--" Yao started, but suddenly he was then being tightly hugged, hardly able to breathe.

"Aww, Aniki doesn't want to be away from me!" Im Yong Soo called out, tightening his embrace. Yao was oddly being reminded of Feliciano being choked by Francis. "I knew it! He doesn't hate me at all!"

"G-Get off me, aru!" Yao called, feeling the gentle moment ruined. "I…I can't breathe, aru!"

Im Yong Soo pulled back, smiling happily. "Alright then! I'll have to drag you, then!"

"Wh-What…!" Yao was suddenly pulled forwards by his hand, Im Yong Soo holding tightly onto his wrist while he pulled the Chinese man down the hall. Both of them nearly tripped, Yao almost hovering while Im Yong Soo dashed down the corridor.

Yao blinked at the energy the Korean had, while he was tugged down the small stairs.

 _He was always the energetic one…_ Yao recalled, thinking to himself. _And rather hysteric when he was angry. If you bothered him, he would never shut up for another hour or two. Thank goodness he didn't rub off on Hong Kong or Meimei; I didn't need more than one over-enthusiastic person…_

Yao's small, forming smile soon left him, replacing it with a frown. Memories of a certain war came into his head when Im Yong Soo laughed again: the Korean War. Im Yong Soo should be _dead_ , for he was killed in action. This must be pre-1950 then, right?

But, Yao was then confused even more. The date couldn't be wrong. For as he was pulled into the kitchen, Yao glanced over at the calendar on the wall, clearly stating '1985'. A familiar voice then shattered through his thoughts, though.

"Ah, Yao. You're up." Hong Kong said, turning his head back to look at him. The brown haired man stood near the large basin sink, not moving from his spot. "Did you sleep well--"

"Hong, you'll never imagine what aniki said to me!" Im Yong Soo announced, interrupting the younger man's sentence. Hong Kong glared at the Korean, disliking his nickname Im Yong Soo gave him. "Aniki said he loves me! He doesn't hate me at all~!"

"I…I never said that, aru!" Yao declared, clenching his fists in frustration. "Stop making things up, aru!"

Im Yong Soo laughed, smiling down at the shorter yet older man. "Aniki shouldn't get so angry! Right, Hong?"

Hong Kong blinked blankly, obviously not caring for what the Korean was going on about. Turning back to the sink, he moved from the large basin to the counter. "Anyways…" He mumbled, trying to ignore Im Yong Soo's loud laughter, "Yao, are you going to get ready for that meeting?"

Yao blinked. "Hmm? Meeting, aru?"

Hong Kong turned his head, looking unamused. "What the hell happened when you were asleep? You know, you're going to head up to Shanghai for that minor conference Kirkland decided to have you hold." Yao could sense the bitterness in his voice, obviously not liking the fact he had to remind his older brother about something.

"Oh… Um… I'm sorry, aru." Yao said. "I forgot, aru."

Hong Kong glared at Yao, and went back to slicing fruit. Yao sighed, and leant against the wall behind him. His eyes traveled to the right, looking at the calendar on the wall again. The fact he was somehow sent back in time was strange, but the other fact that two people who should be dead were still here.

Something then hit him, clicking in his head. Yao looked over at Im Yong Soo, who had taken a seat randomly on the floor.

"Um, Im Yong Soo…" Yao asked, getting the Korean's attention. "Um… where's Meimei and Kiku, aru?" If Im Yong Soo and Hong Kong were alive, the other two members of their 'family' might still be around.

The Korean blinked. "Hm? Oh, Kiku left already. Meimei's out shopping, didn't she tell you that last night?" Im Yong Soo said, looking up at Yao.

Yao's heart raced, but he simply nodded. Turning away, he let a bright smile form on his face, so happy that Kiku didn't leave him, and neither did the Taiwanese girl.

"I should be going, aru." Yao announced, still smiling. He left the kitchen, waving happily goodbye to the other two. "Goodbye, aru!" He called, leaving the building all together.

Hong Kong turned around once again, looking over at Im Yong Soo. "Why is he so happy all of a sudden?"

Im Yong Soo smiled. "Aniki is allowed to be happy, isn't he?"

* * *

Yao remembered why he hated conferences. Alfred always led the whole thing, no matter where it was taking place. The American's voice hurt his head, and many others. Yao looked over to his right, seeing the Swiss man beside him grumble at every word coming out of Alfred's mouth.

Yao blinked. "He's bothersome, aru." He whispered over to him.

Vash glanced over at the Chinese man. "I can't help but agree." He mumbled.

Chuckling, Yao smiled slightly. "I'd hate to see it if he heard someone like Arthur saying this, aru."

The blond man blinked. "Hm? What do you mean?" he whispered, confused.

It was Yao's turn to look confused. "What? You know how Alfred acts around Arthur, aru. They always fight, aru."

Vash cocked his head to the right, looking more confused. "I have no idea what you're talking about, honestly. Alfred doesn't fight with Arthur, Yao. If anything, Alfred _worships_ Arthur, and the ground he walks on." Vash whispered.

"Hey," The two turned their heads forward, seeing a bothered-looking Gilber glaring at them. "Shut up already, you're starting to get on my nerves. " He hissed in a hushed voice.

Vash glared at the Prussian man. "Piss off, prat."

Gilbert gritted his teeth. "Why don't you, idiot?"

Yao sighed, turning his head away from the two as their argument started to rise in volume. Although it didn't block out their loud voices, he didn't want to look at them, and instead think about what Vash might've meant by 'worship'. Alfred never seemed to worship anyone or anything. (Yao then had to remember that hamburger obsession the American seemed to have.)

The Chinese man glanced over at the man a few seats across from him, looking at Arthur. The Englishman didn't seem the least bit bothered at Alfred's speech, who seemed to be talking about either poverty or world hunger. Probably both, Yao wasn't paying attention, really..

A sharp-sounding voice filled his ears, and Yao turned his attention back to his left. Listening to Ludwig tell Vash and Berwald to be quiet, Yao closed his eyes briefly. He was rather scared of the German, but at least he made people listen to him easily.

Letting his eyes travel away from the three, who sat down again, Yao noticed three familiar faces near him; Feliks, Toris and Ivan all sat across from Yao. (Yao was surprised he just noticed them, especially with the tall Russian there.)

Suddenly, Feliks glanced over at Yao, and his expression turned bitter. "What are you staring at?!" he demanded, glaring at the Chinese man.

Yao was taken aback at the blonds' angry sounding voice. "I…I'm sorry, aru…" He stammered, "I wasn't staring, aru."

"Yes you were!" Feliks snapped, glaring harder. "You've totally been staring at me all his time, I know it!"

Toris patted his friend's shoulder. "Ahh… Feliks, it's okay. I'm sure your eyes just met by chance."

Feliks shot a glare down at the Lithuanian, as he was now standing up. Looking back at Yao, his bitter expression stayed. "Don't stare at me, you freak! You're like, so creepy!"

Ivan smiled meekly. "Feliks, don't be so mean to Yao." He said gently, "Yao's not a bad person, he's really nice. Now say sorry."

Pouting, the blond man sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Now I'm so not going to enjoy this. This whole meeting is totally going to suck."

Blinking slowly, Yao glanced away, after seeing Toris look over at the Chinese man with an apologizing look. _In this world, I guess Feliks doesn't like me._ Yao thought. Now, he assumed, he should be calling this place a 'world', for it seemed much different than the present-day world he was once in.

Someone snapped at him, knocking the raven-haired man from his thoughts. Not knowing who it was, Yao still went back to paying attention to the American and the front of the room.

* * *

His head in pain, Yao was relieved to get out of that conference room. One of the first to leave, he walked towards the door, hoping he could hurry up and, in Alfred's words, "Get the hell out of here."

"Oh, Yao, wait up." Freezing, Yao turned around, only to jump in surprise as Ivan stood behind him, wearing one of his trademark smiles. Toris and Raivis stood by his side.

"Um, hello Ivan, Toris, Raivis… nice to see you, aru." He mumbled, uncomfortable with the tall Russian staring down at him. He was completely frightened of him, and the Chinese man had no clue why the two at Ivan's side weren't trembling with fear, with the Russian being mentally _holy shit Ivan is patting his head._

"You seemed tense this meeting, dear Yao." The Russian giggled, smiling down at him. His words made Yao's shoulders tense up. "Is anything wrong? I'd hate to see one of my friends in trouble."

"I-I'm fine, a-aru…" Yao stammered, scared out of his wits. Oddly, the Latvian next to Ivan simply smiled at what the older, taller man was doing.

"You really don't seem all too well, Yao." Toris stated, sending a caring expression to the immortal. "Why are you so worried all of the sudden?"

"I-I-I'm fine, r-really, aru!" Yao exclaimed, pulling away from Ivan's hand. "I… I got to go… goodbye, aru!"

He ran off, leaving Toris, Raivis and Ivan confused.

Running hastily down the hall to the outside, Yao was relieved to be away from the Russian man and the two Baltics. Neither of the two seemed scared, intimidated by Ivan, or worried. In fact, they almost seemed… happy to be around him. What happened with--

His thoughts all left him when Yao crashed into something, or someone, and fell down to the carpeted floor.

"Bloody hell!" Arthur screamed, stumbling forwards, but managing to catch himself and balance against the wall. Looking behind him, he glared down at Yao. "The hell was that for?!"

"I-I'm sorry, aru!" Yao exclaimed, getting up. "I didn't mean it, aru…"

Keeping his bitter expression, the Englishman sighed. "Whatever. I forgive you."

The two stood in awkward silence, the only noise being some chatter that was closing in on them, possibly belonging to one of the Italian brothers.

"…You want to walk together or something?" Arthur offered, possibly trying to make up for his harsh attitude earlier.

Smiling gently, Yao nodded. "Sure, I'd love to, aru."

The two continued walking, their footsteps hushed by the carpet beneath them. Arthur started to talk about something Yao could barely understand, most of it had to do with England's economy or Arthur's complaints about Ivan and Francis. Then, the conversation, or rant, moved to Alfred.

"…It's irksome, really, how he wants to tear down the whole town for some stupid building…" Arthur grumbled, not looking back to the Chinese man behind him. "Alfred, that idiot… I don't think it'll take that much space for one bloody radio station…"Yao looked up from the ground. "Uhm… Arthur, you don't sound all that happy, aru."

"Of course I'm not. Hell, that's the same village he lived in before I left him for a few years." The Englishman sighed. "Why he's destroying my own home, I have no clue…"Yao blinked rapidly,

"W-Wait, your home, aru? What about the Revolutionary War… I thought you vowed to never set off on America again other than for a meeting, aru!"Yao suddenly choked in his last few words, realizing he should never, ever bring up that war in front of suddenly, Arthur whipped around, his eyes full of rage, with a glare like poison.

" _REVOLUTIONARY WAR_?!" He screamed, his scowl as sharp as a knife. Yao prepared himself for the violent slap across his face.

"…What are you talking about, Yao?" Yao opened his eyes, hearing Arthur's gentle tone. The Englishman didn't look enraged at all anymore, and just looked confused. "Between Alfred and I? Never in a million years." he blinked, confused. Was that his imagination? Didn't Arthur usually smack Yao for bringing up that war?

Arthur laughed. "What, you assume I'd go to war against Alfred? Why?"

Yao glanced away. "Umm.. never mind, I was getting confused with some old story, aru."

The blond blinked. "Story? How did it go?"

Yao sighed, closing his eyes. "There's two brothers, with one overruling the younger one, aru. The younger brother goes against his' brother's nation for independence, aru. " he mumbled, practically repeating the events of Alfred's independence. But, since Arthur was so convinced this war never happened… "It ends with the younger brother breaking off, away from his older sibling, leaving the older one crushed and abandoned, aru."

Arthur's wondering gaze turned sour. "What, and you got _us_ confused with that stupid story?!"

Yao looked up. "Y-Yes, but it was a mistake, aru! It's just a simple observation of how independent Alfred seems sometimes, and how you fight often--"

Arthur cut off the Chinese man's sentence, letting the back of his hand meet Yao's face. Ah, there's that slap.

The Englishman glared hard at Yao. "You idiot, we don't fight _that_ often! Never in a million year would Alfred and I think about such idiotic things such as war for independence! Bickering doesn't result in warfare all the time!"

Storming off, Arthur left Yao, pushing the doors open to the outside streets of Shanghai. Yao rubbed his face, grumbling about how rude Arthur was. Then again, when wasn't he?

While walking out, Feliciano, Romano and Antonio decided to walk with Yao, not that the raven-haired man cared at all. He just went over the thoughts in his head, how strange it was that Arthur denied anything relating to Alfred's independence.

* * *

"I'm home, aru."

Walking inside the small house, Yao closed the door behind him. Gently taking off his shoes, he walked inside.

He looked up, and saw who was in front of him. His heart nearly skipped a beat."Hm? Oh, welcome back, Yao-san." Kiku replied, turning his head towards the man who entered.

It took lots of strength to stop Yao from flinging himself at his beloved adopted-brother, who once left him long ago.

Simply nodding, Yao smiled over at the Japanese man. "Hello Kiku, aru."Nodding back, Kiku turned to leave the hall, until a little child ran into him. Looking up, Meimei smiled up at her older brother.

"Hi there, Nii-san." The Taiwanese girl giggled, giving Kiku a light hug. "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"It's alright…" Kiku mumbled, trying to move from the hug. He glanced at Yao, with a "Please help me?" glance.

"Meimei, could you let go of Kiku, aru?" Yao asked, smiling gently at the young girl.

She looked over at Yao, her lovely brown eyes staring at him. She pouted, hiding behind Kiku. "Nii-san, is _Yao-san_ bothering you?" She grumbled, forcing emphasis on her 'respectful way' of saying Yao's name.

Kiku sighed. "No, Meimei, he jus got home from his meeting, nothing bad…" He pulled from her, leaving the hallway.

Shooting a glare at Yao, Meimei turned around. "Nii-san, wait up~!" She giggled, following the Japanese man.

Sighing, Yao looked at the ground. Oh great, Meimei _still_ hates him, even in this world. Couldn't the Taiwanese girl realize that Yao _wasn't_ going to hurt Kiku?

Not even four steps into the house, Yao suddenly crashed to the ground, screaming. Crushed by Im Yong Soo, who just happened to tackle hug him, he shouted random English and Chinese threats, trying to squirm out of the violent hug.

"Yay! Aniki's home!" The Korean laughed, his arms tight around his brother. "I missed you! I missed you!"

"G-Get off of me, aru!" Yao shouted. "I can't breathe, aru! Get off, aru! Off, now!"

Sitting up, Im Yong Soo continued to laugh and smile, letting Yao also sit up. Grumbling something inaudible, Yao stood up straight, shooting a bothered glare to his younger brother.

Standing up as well, Im Yong Soo said, "So, what do you want to do? Well?"

"I'm just in the door, aru!" Yao exclaimed, turning away. "Give me an hour or something! I don't feel like rushing to do something else, aru!"

Im Yong Soo's smile didn't leave his face. "Alright then, aniki. I'll go help Hong Kong, then~" He dashed off, Yao's bitter mood obviously not tampering with his joy.

Ignoring the sudden cries of surprise from Hong Kong, who was probably being either tackled or groped by now, thanks to a certain Korean,

Yao let out a sigh. So many strange this were revealed to him today, he didn't need Im Yong Soo's clingy personality or Meimei's hostile attitude towards him added to his troubles.

Yao promptly ignored the screams coming from the kitchen ("Yong Soo! Get off of me right now!!" "But aniki told me to help you!") and started walking slowly towards his bedroom, which, sadly, had to be the room farthest down the hallways. Walking down the small, narrow hall, Yao passed by his younger sister, who promptly glared at him bitterly. Sighing at her rude behaviour, Yao reached the door, sliding it open and walking inside.

He took another glance at the calendar on the wall, reading the numbers to himself. 1985. Nineteen eighty-five. No, not 2010. There would be no way a mistake like that could be printed for so long. From the looks of things outside, it seemed like it was mid-August, and not the bitterly cold January of 2010.

Taking a seat on the futon, which he didn't bother to put away this morning, since Im Yong Soo dragged him out of bed, Yao leant back on his hands, staring up at the ceiling. The arguing shouts from the main room didn't reach his ears at all. Instead, in his own world, it was silent and confusing, racking one's brain to figure out so many questions.


	3. Chapter 3

While he sat, leaning against the wall, Yao held a half-full glass in his hand. For the past two hours, he was still in his room, and sometime during that, he went to go get a bottle of huangjiu, getting a puzzled stare from Hong Kong when he did. ("What exactly do you plan to do with that?" Was his question.) Truthfully, he was inclined to just drink the night away with something more alcoholic, like some sort of beer Alfred gave him, but he didn't feel like suffering from the hangover he'd get the next day.

A knock on his door interrupted Yao when he took a sip. Moving the glass from his mouth, he looked over. "Come in, aru."

Im Yong Soo stuck his head in, looking over at his brother. "Aniki, you've got a visitor." He said, moving away to let a familiar blond in.

Yao smiled gently. "Oh, hello Alfred, aru."

Hearing Im Yong Soo leave, the blond walked over to Yao, taking a seat in front of him. He was averting his gaze, looking rather shy.

"Alfred, what's wrong, aru?" Yao asked, cocking his head to the left.

"I… I'm Matthew…" He mumbled, looking a bit upset at being mistaken for the American again.

Yao blinked blankly, staring at Matthew. Did he know a Matthew? He must've, why would the boy come see him if they didn't meet?

The blond looked angry all of a sudden, being sure Yao forgot him. "I'm Canada!" He exclaimed, glaring at Yao with a bother expression. Of course, his voice was still in a feeble whisper.

Then, it clicked in Yao's head. "Oh! I-I'm sorry, aru!"

Still looking bothered, the Canadian knelt down in front of Yao, sitting down with him.

"So, why are you here, aru?" Yao asked, looking at Matthew.

Matthew looked up bleakly, gazing over Yao. "I… I honestly don't know how to word this…"

"Go ahead, aru. Tell me, and explain if I don't understand, aru." Yao replied, smiling gently at the Canadian.

Matthew looked at Yao, a shy blush obviously on his face. Probably because this was the longest someone had ever spoken to him. "I… I know what's going on, you know…"

Yao blinked, looking confused. The blond was right, Yao had no clue what he was talking about. "What do you mean, aru?" Yao promptly said.

Matthew's blushed turned a dark red, turning his head away. "I knew it… you wouldn't get it…"

"No, could you explain, aru?"

Taking a deep breath, Matthew looked at Yao again. "F-Fine…"

Sitting a bit straighter, and not looking as embarrassed, Matthew spoke again, "What I mean is… I know why you were confused today, why you were in a daze at the meeting."

"You were there, aru?" Yao couldn't help but say.

Matthew, obviously bothered by that question, continued, "I know why, Yao. You're not from this world… I know you're not the Yao I knew a few days ago."

"Wh-What?" Yao asked, leaning back. "Wh-What do you mean, aru? Of course I am! I don't know what you--"

"You're from some other world."

The air grew still, silence overcoming the two. Yao stared at Matthew, surprise and confusion in his eyes, while the blond looked down at his knees. Yao had dropped his glass, huangjiu spilling out from it.

"…Are you joking around, or…?" Yao started to ask, before Matthew looked up again."I…I'm not trying to tease you at all, Yao…" Matthew proclaimed, looking up a bit. "Believe me, I'm not trying to mess with you..."

Yao blinked once again, the words Matthew was saying were hardly registering in his mind at all.

"Y-Yao… are you listening?" Matthew asked, worried he was just being ignored. Which he was. "Please don't ignore--"

"…You are trying to mess with me." Yao suddenly asked again, his voice icily cold for some reason.

Matthew cringed slightly at the cruel tone of voice. "N-No, of course not! I don't have anything to gain from that--"

" _I swear to god, Matthew--_ "

"I-I mean it! I mean it, I mean it!"

Yao glanced up, glaring at the Canadian. How much he could scare the poor man, no one could tell.

Luckily -- for Matthew, at least -- silence fell over the two, Yao looking back down at his knees again. Matthew bit his bottom lip, fidgeting with his fingers.

"So--"

"Tell me what happened that day then, aru." Yao grumbled, not bothering to look up.

"What..?"

"You heard me, aru." He continued, in the same cold tone of voice. "Tell me what happened. I doubt the death of me, the person who was governing over China, would go without being spread."

Matthew blinked, looking up. "Alright…"

More silence, only this was short lived.

"I'm waiting, aru."

"You were hit by an oncoming truck--"

"I know that, aru."

"Let me finish!" Matthew proclaimed, frowning. He regained his calm voice. "You were thrown off your feet… and then happened to land right in front of the car's tire."

Yao's eyes widened. "U-Under the tire, aru?" He stammered, shuddering at the crunching feeling that had run through him before everyone's screams left his ears.

"Yes… your whole body… it was crushed, practically flattened…" Matthew continued, "Then… everyone ran over, screaming and shouting, praying that you really were alive, and this was all just some horrible dream."

Yao looked down again. "So in the end… it was practically my fault, aru."

"Y-You're fault?" Matthew asked, confused."My fault, for ruining their lives and scaring the living daylights out of them all, aru."

Matthew was silent.

"But none of this really tells me why I'm not dead, aru." Yao sighed, and continued, "Or why you know all of this, and no one else does, aru."

Matthew turned his head away. "Maybe it's your presence here that makes me remember what Alfred told me." the Canadian said.

"Alfred told you this, aru?"

"Of course, I wasn't with you that day, remember?"

"Oh… right, aru." Yao said. He wanted to mention that he, he being Matthew, might've actually been with them, and nobody noticed. But that would be rude.

"So… how can I return to my 'old world', aru?" Yao asked. "Do you know?"

The Canadian thought. "My guess… is that there's something preventing you from returning. Almost like you need a key, but the key is on the other side of the door."

"Well then, how would I get to that, aru?"

"How am I suppose to know?" Matthew snapped, sending a rare glare at Yao. Awkward silence, before Matthew continued.

"I'm positive you can find this 'key' here, and it shouldn't be too far… but I'm worried for something."

"What is it, aru?" Yao asked, leaning back on his hands.

The blond looked away. "If it's in a person, how are you going to get it out?"

Yao thought about that, then shuddered. "That's a scary thought, aru. I don't want to hurt anyone, aru."

"But if it is in someone…" Matthew continued, "It's probably someone you're close to. Maybe your boss," (Yao held in so much laughter, didn't Matthew know who his boss was?) "Or even your siblings. Although, I'm hoping that it's in an object, not a person."

"If so, they're life will surely be lost, aru." Matthew nodded at that.

"Um.." Matthew then said, "I… think I've told you a lot…maybe I should go now."

Yao smiled gently at the blond boy. "Sure, aru. If you must." He said.

Standing up, Matthew nodded down at Yao, with a small smile on his face, turned and left. When the door shut, Yao leant back again, lying on his back.

_If it is in someone I know…_ Yao thought, _then I should at least try to check, in someway, my siblings. Can't be too hard, I hope._

Looking up when Kiku stuck his head in the door, telling his sibling that dinner was ready (What really made Yao happy was that Kiku, being the polite man he was, didn't pester Yao about what Matthew was doing.), Yao sat up and got to his feet, following Kiku down to the kitchen.

Promptly entering the kitchen, Im Yong Soo asked him, "Aniki, what was that guy doing here?"

"His name is _Matthew,_ Im Yong Soo," Yao sighed, taking a seat next to where Meimei was going to sit, "And it's none of your business, aru."

Im Yong Soo pouted, wanting to hear more. "But I want to know why he was here!"

"Shut up already, Im Yong Soo." Hong Kong snapped, glaring over at him from the counter. "Don't pester Yao." He hissed, cutting up something Yao couldn't see.

Frowning angrily, Im Yong Soo turned away from Yao, not that he cared.

Once Hong Kong put the food down, some sort of argument between Meimei and Im Yong Soo broke out. Yao did his best to ignore it, while Kiku ate in silence and Hong Kong got dragged into their pointless feud,

_I guess I can enjoy these times…_ Yao thought to himself, eating some rice. _I haven't eaten with a family in ages… Meimei and Kiku left me, with Im Yong Soo's unfortunate demise…_

He looked up at Kiku, smiling gently, while the Japanese man glanced up, then back down at his plate. _Dinners with them, eating together like an actual family…_

Yao closed his eyes. _Do I really want to go back?_


	4. Chapter 4

" _Yao!!"_

_Feliciano screams continued to ring out through the street, becoming slightly easier to hear when the large truck who just rushed by stopped running, and the driver got out of the driver's seat._

" _No... no…" The Italian choked out over his screeches, grabbing at his head, almost covering his ears. He had tears pouring from his eyes, his mortified sobs and random 'No's and 'This can't be happening' phrases escaping his lips, swapping from English to rapid Italian often. He continued to mutter nonsense while the other three nations stood there._

_For Arthur, Alfred and Francis, there was only sheer horror and shock in their misty eyes. A life was ended all because of someone's stupidity. The once loud area was now deathly quiet, the short breaths from Feliciano's sobs and a few whispers being the only sound. Pain filled their hearts as they stared down at the corpse that was sprawled out across the ground in a sickening way, blood covering the road. Some of them wanted to turn and vomit, but they were frozen in place. They failed to see Yao, who has just tragically lost his life, look at them from farther off, watching them stand in shock, observing his own death._

_Moments had past, and the Englishman covered his mouth with his hands, suddenly taking a small step -- more like jolt -- back, cringing in sickness. Yao could just tell that Arthur was indeed on the verge of vomiting, and was rather pleased at the fact both Alfred and Francis blocked his proper view of Arthur, so he didn't have to see if he truly did vomit from nausea._

_But he still didn't feel right. He wanted to run over to them all, get Feliciano to his feet, and assure them all that he was fine, not dead. But Yao's feet stayed in place, while and empty feeling took over him._

" _I'm… I'm right here, aru…" He croaked out, looking down. "I'm right here…"_

_Feliciano continued to cry. Sounds of sirens came into hearing, drowning out the sobs. Yao didn't look at the people now crowding around his corpse._

" _I'm here… I'm right here…"_

* * *

He awoke, shouting random Chinese as he sat up quickly.

The door to his room opened, and Im Yong Soo peered in. "Aniki, what's wrong?"

Yao stared over at his brother, breathing quickly. But then, his terrified expression turned sour, glaring intently at Im Yong Soo.

"Were you outside my room all this time, aru?!"

"Of course not!" Im Yong Soo scoffed, looking hurt. "I just heard you screaming!"

"How did you get here so quickly then, aru?!" Yao demanded.

Short silence, the Im Yong Soo grinned "Aniki, come on, stop lying around and get up!"

Yao stared at the Korean, confused at his change of subject.

_Why did I miss this life again?_

"Do I have to drag you out of bed again, aniki?"

"No, aru."

"Can I help you get dressed, then?"

"Of course not, aru!!"

Getting out of the futon, Yao stood up and motioned Im Yong Soo to close the door. (Read as: Glared at the Korean until he got the message.)

Minutes followed while Yao got properly dressed. Finished --- after convincing himself to not wear a Shinatty-chan hair ribbon --- Yao slid open the door, out into the hallway. He made his way down the short, small staircase in silence, voices belonging to his siblings growing louder and more clearer.

"…Don't be so angry, Hong Kong." Im Yong Soo laughed. "I'm just saying--"

"And I'm just saying that you need to stop making up _lies_ about my firecrackers." Hong Kong snapped.

"-- that firecrackers were made in Korea!"

Yao chose the worst possible time to enter the kitchen, walking in just as Hong Kong spun around and smacked Im Yong Soo across the face in a blind rage.

"Aiyah! Hong Kong, don't, aru!" Yao shouted, rushing to the Korean, who was now whimpering -- probably cursing as well -- rapid Korean, mostly just the same words over and over. ("H-He hit me! He hit me!")

"He made me angry!" "You don't hit people, aru!"

Yao hung his head in defeat, while Im Yong Soo cried from his left ("Aniki, he hit me! Punish him!") and Hong Kong shouted at Yao from his right. ("Making up lies for attention? Why do you put up with it?!") Glancing over at Kiku, who had decided to sit there while Hong Kong and Im Yong Soo bickered, Yao tried to find some sort of sympathy in the Japanese man's expression.

But he didn't. Yao only saw slight amusement in Kiku's expression while he down the last of his tea in the cup.

Kiku was a real asshole sometimes.

Forcing Im Yong Soo to stop shouting and being over dramatic, and also shaking Hong Kong by the collar to calm him down, some sort of peace seemed to wash over the four. Meimei walked in, seeing the pissed off expression on Hong Kong's face, and the light slap mark on her Korean brother's, and looked genuinely confused. ("Did they fight, Kiku-san?" "Yes." "Oh…" "It was amusing, actually." "Aiyah! Don't be so rude, Kiku, aru!")

Their morning ritual of breakfast went under way, Kiku and Yao being silent while Im Yong Soo tried to cheer Hong Kong up with Meimei's assistance.

"Cheer up, Hong Kong!"

"You annoyed me."

"Don't be so bitter, Hong Kong-kun!"

"Don't drag yourself into this, Meimei."

"Could you three stop, aru?"

* * *

"Our million hearts beat as one, brave the enemy's fire, march on, aru…"

Singing quietly to himself, Yao scraped away at dishes in the large basin sink, rather pleased at the 'alone time' he had now. ('Alone time' was a bit of a stretch. It was Kiku who usually cleaned, and cleaning wasn't exactly relaxing, was it?) The only sounds in the whole house were Yao's quirt singing, the rushing tap water, and the low volume of the television, Im Yong Soo watching one of his beloved dramas.

Glancing over to the left to take another dirty dish, Yao jumped, seeing another pair of hands washing as well. Hong Kong was silent, not really noticing Yao jumping in shock.

"Hong Kong! I didn't notice you, aru!" Yao exclaimed, slightly laughing. "Are you going to help me, aru?"

The boy looked at Yao. "I'll do the rest, Yao."

The Chinese man smiled brightly. "Are you sure, aru?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, aru!"

Yao gave the other a hug, smiling brightly still as Hong Kong kept the same stoic face.

"Please get off." "Sorry, aru."

Releasing him, Yao stepped away, letting Hong Kong resume his work. Fixing the sleeves of his shirt, which he has rolled up, Yao leant against the edge of the sink.

"You're acting much more polite than earlier, aru." Yao commented.

"I don't want to come off rude today, exactly." Hong Kong mumbled. "And I'm sorry I lashed out at Im Yong Soo."

"Don't tell that to me, aru. Say it to Im Yong Soo's face, aru."

Awkward silence. In a desperate attempt at conversation, Yao said, "You remind me of Kiku when you clean, aru."

"Thank you…?"

"You're rather serious about what you're doing, aru. That's what I mean, aru."

"Oh, I see."

Yao smirked. He couldn't help but saying, "You're both such housewives, aru."

That really made Hong Kong angry.

"What?!" The boy shouted, turning to Yao in complete rage and annoyance, his face red with embarrassment. "Wh-What did you say?!"

Hong Kong was asking for it, really.

Yao laughed again, getting a lot of entertainment from his brother's outburst. "I'm only kidding, aru! It was a joke, aru!"

"A rather rude one at that!"

Laughing still, Yao patted Hong Kong's shoulder. "Did Arthur really rub off on you this much, aru?"

"You let him trample around my place for a few years, obviously he's influenced his rough attitude on me." Hong Kong grumbled, his face returning to normal colour. At least he didn't look like one of Antonio's tomatoes now, at least.

"No, I mean when you lived with him, aru."

Hong Kong had resumed to scraping the dishes, but stood, turning to Yao in confusion. "…What? Lived with him?… If you consider me being around him often counts as 'living' with Arthur… then alright."

Yao blinked, Hong Kong returned to cleaning the plates, which were neglected during their conversation. Thinking to himself, while walking out of the kitchen and into the hall, the Chinese man realized… Hong Kong was right. He wasn't taken away by Arthur in this world.

Well, how exactly would the boy be here if he was with the Englishman?

Yao had walked to his room, and has snapped back to reality while he was opening the door to the small room. He stepped in, and closed the door behind him gently, Yao questioned himself why he seemed to head up to his 'quarters' when stressed. Maybe because there was no chance of Im Yong Soo tackling him to the ground.

He noticed the phone that sat on a small, night stand-like table. Yao got an urge to call a certain Englishman.

But what would he say? _'Hi Arthur, this is Yao, aru. I called because I have a question, aru/ Did we ever fight over opium years and years ago, the ending result begin you taking Hong Kong away from me, aru? Just wondering!''_

His hands had already picked up the phone and was dialling the number. Damn it.

Yao had a loud battle rage on in his head, one side shouting at him to hang up the phone, but the other side saying it would be rude to do that. Goodness, he was ready to slap himself if it would make his mind stop for a brief moment--

_'Hello?'_

Yao froze. That wasn't Arthur. It wasn't anyone even in England.

'… _Hello?'_

He could hear a Lithuanian accent. He had accidentally called Toris. Oh god, how did he make that mistake?

"H-Hello, aru."

' _Yao?'_

Oh! Toris, I'm sorry, aru! I…I must've called the wrong number, aru!" said Yao, his face dark red with embarrassment. Thank goodness Toris couldn't see him.

The Lithuanian laughed. _'Oh… okay. It's alright. Who were you trying to call?'_

"A-Arthur, aru…" Yao was choking on his own words now. Toris was patient, why was he worried the boy was going to lash out at him?

' _Ah, I see. Goodbye, I won't hold you for any longer.'_ "Goodbye, aru."

Yao hung up, ending the line. His face was starting to return to normal colour, as he cursed silently to himself at his misfortune. He was truly lost in this world, unknowing exactly what was happening. In all honesty, he was waiting for Peter to become that big, strong nation he dreamed of being. (Hell, Ivan seemed somewhat sane, the impossible was now possible.)

"Yao-san, are you in there?" Meimei said from the hall, lightly knocking on the door and interrupting Yao's fight mental battle.

Moving from the phone to the door, Yao opened it, putting on a plastic smile to the small Taiwanese girl. If she saw him stressed out, she'd probably assume he was planning to try and harm Kiku.

"This is addressed to you, Yao-san." She said, holding out an envelope to him while she stared up at her brother.

"thank you Meimei, aru." Yao replied, smiling still.

Meimei simply stared at him, not acknowledging his kind voice. She turned to her right and left, leaving Yao in the doorway.

He looked down at the envelope, which was written in Germany, the only thing not in the confusing language was "Wang, Yao". The Chinese man blinked; he didn't order anything from Germany, nor did he mail anyone recently in Germany. (Or Austria, now that he thought about it. And god knows how many other German-speaking countries Yao was forgetting about…)

Tearing up the envelope,, Yao open the folded paper, reading it. A letter for a meeting in München.

_Another_ meeting?

' _I apologize for another conference so sudden, especially for Yao, but the conference in Shanghai was on Arthur's demands, forcibly held by him._ (Yao could just hear Ludwig shout these words.) _This one, the one being held in Germany, was decided at the last one in Canberra_. (He shuddered; the thought of Con running a meeting, acting just like a certain American… Yao was pleased that he only arrived in this world two days ago.)

_I would appreciate it if you all could arrive in a day or two, just so we all can become somewhat comfortable for the meeting. I know that a lot of countries didn't show up for the meeting in Shanghai, so this will be a much superior gathering than Arthur's meeting._ (Yao just knew Ludwig was going to be _screamed_ at.) _'_

Grumbling random things, Yao really started to hate his luck. Once more, he would have to go to a meeting, which was just an excuse for everyone to swallow a whole bottle of Advil, for nations to get together and mingle, to remind older nations that, yes, this is what the world had come to.

But, it was a good way for Yao to find out how different this world was, right?

Right?

… Yao really hated his luck.


	5. Chapter 5

"Aniki, pick up your feet and hurry up!"

"This isn't a playground, aru."

Yao refrained from storming over to the Korean ahead of him and smacking the boy across the head. Im Yong Soo was running ahead while his four other siblings took their time walking down the hallway to the conference room.

"Aniki, you're all so slow!" Im Yong Soo cheered, walking backwards to face his siblings, now dragging his feet on the carpeted floor. Yao feared the moment where Im Yong Soo went to open the door, and got the shock of his life.

"Im Yong Soo, didn't you hear me, aru?" Yao snapped, fixating his glare on the Korean. "This is _not_ a toy store or a playground, aru. Have some maturity, aru."

Im Yong Soo smiled childishly. "Sorry, aniki." he giggled.

The Korean opened the door to the meeting room,(After whining that the metal doorknob shocked him.) and held the door open for Yao, who walked in with the three other nations.

A few glances over at the Asian nations were all they got. Well, that and Lucas glaring at them. The Norwegian said, "You're late." coldly to them all.

Did he really care that much? Nobody enjoyed these long meetings. Even Gilbert, who took these opportunities with open arms to just meet up with his fellow 'Bad Touch' members to harass the other countries, found them to be tedious and annoying at times. So Lucas' cold words were ignored.

In mere moments, Meimei and Im Yong Soo disappeared, off to visit the friendly nations the two often spent time with during meetings. (Although Im Yong Soo was probably going to tell Tino or Berwald that Hamatamago was originally in Korea.) Meimei tried to bring Kiku with her, (Her words "I don't trust Yao-san with you, nii-san!"" really hurt the Chinese male.) but the Japanese man politely said no, taking a seat by Hong Kong.

"Where are you going, Yao?" Hong Kong asked.

He turned around, smiling at the boy. "Ah… nowhere, aru. I'm just going to go find someone, aru."

"We'll save you a seat, Yao-san." Kiku said, then turning to try and talk to the half-awake Elizaveta next to him.

Yao looked around the busy room, realizing he made some kind of mistake.

There was no way he was going to find the Canadian. Stupid invisible tricks… Never before had he really cared if Matthew did that, but now…

"Um… Yao…" the Chinese man turned to his left, and almost jumped at the appearance of a certain Canadian.

_Speak of the devil._

"How long have you been there, aru?" Yao asked.

"Just a few seconds." Matthew said, smiling sheepishly.

"Don't sneak up on--" Yao stopped, realizing the Canadian probably didn't sneak up on him and was just invisible. Pleasant, Matthew was invisible in this world too.

"Take a seat next to me, so we can… ah, clear up whatever you need?" Matthew got a strange look from the passing Icelandic boy, the silver-toned hair curiously looking at him, wondering about 'clearing things up'.

"Alright, aru." Yao replied, being led to a seat that was between another empty chair and a familiar North Korean. Fun.

Yao sat down, avoiding the interested gaze of North Korea, and turned to Matthew, who also sat down.

"Ask me anything you want cleared up--"

"Why didn't Arthur kill me when I mentioned the Revolutionary War, aru?"

An amuse smile tugged on Matthew's lips, but he quickly went back to his gentle, not-that-surprised expression.

"You don't know how hard this is to explain…" Matthew replied, "But… I can just say that Al and Arthur aren't on bitter terms when my brother's independence is brought up."

"Why, aru?"

"Let's… let's just say that Al was the one who ended up leaving him in a 'peaceful matter' and I'm the one who went through hell and back to be my own nation."

Yao blinked. "That… that messes up history, aru…"

"It does, doesn't it?" Matthew half laughed, "I can show you.."

The Canadian looked around the room for a few seconds, before seeing Arthur. He smiled over at the Englishman, only getting him to raise his eyebrow in confusion, something like a scowl on his face.

"See? Told you." Matthew half-laughed again, turning back to Yao.

The Chinese man would've commented on how it was probably because Arthur was already annoyed with Francis or Mathias, but he held it back.

"Anything else?"

"I want to -- hey, Ludwig's standing up, aru…"

Matthew turned his head to see the German rise from his seat at the head of the table. Beside him was Gilbert, idly twirling a pen, with his feet on the table. He didn't look too pleased to be there, he probably wanted to sit with Francis or Antonio, trying to flick pens at people, not sitting with his brother running a meeting…

"Everyone!" Ludwig shouted, his voice ringing through the meeting room, "Please take your seats! We shall begin the meeting now!"

_He's so robotic…_ Yao thought to himself. He heard the scraping sounds of people pulling back their chairs all around him, the legs of the chair dragging against the tiled floor. All around him nations were taking their seats and taking out papers, a few o them already tossing Tylenol pills into their mouths for precautions. Damn it, Yao left his with Kiku…

Speaking of Kiku, Yao glanced over to where he left his sibling, seeing the confused and curious look he was getting from the Japanese man. Hong Kong wasn't looking at Yao, watching Ludwig at the front start his speech. Yao felt bad leaving Kiku alone, but Lovino had filled the empty seat.

Yao tapped his fingers against the table, the tapping sound barely heard over Ludwig's loud voice -- and the occasional "Yeah" or "Woo-hoo, awesome" from Gilbert. Yao tried to give Ludwig his full attention, but it was kind of hard, with all the things going on in the Chinese male's head.

He almost missed another tapping sound -- the sound of crumpled paper hitting a desk. A paper ball landed near him, North Korea pushing it over with his pen. While the Korean turned back to Ludwig's speech, Yao looked at the ball, un-crumpling it and reading it.

' _Don't bother my Liet ever again or else. '_

Yao blinked. He wasn't that suspicious of who sent this 'threatening' note; there was only one person who called Toris 'Liet', yes?

Yao glanced around, trying to find Feliks, and soon locked eyes with him, the Pole glaring at Yao with a hateful stare. Yao didn't give him a surprised or hurt expression: Feliks wanted to see him upset, he knew that, and this wasn't that upsetting.

Yao lifted up his pen that was under Matthew's papers, and wrote down onto the paper, crumpling it back up.

' _Someone's a bit overprotective. '_

Yao threw the paper ball back at Feliks, hitting the Pole's elbow. Feliks un-crumpled the paper, reading it. He glared at Yao, staring up from the paper through his bangs. The man had to admit, the Pole was rather intimidating looking now.

Feliks snatched up his pen, and scribbled onto the paper, anger clear on his face. He scrunched up the sheet again and threw it, not even hitting Yao but getting close to him. Feliks had such bad aim…

Opening the ball, Yao looked at the note.

' _I mean it! You're soo annoying! Don't bother him again! '_

Yao lifted up the pen, writing onto the poor sheet of paper that was probably going to rip in half soon.

' _I don't want to get into a silly fight, Feliks. Stop trying to get me angry so this whole meeting goes crazy. '_

Crumpling it up again, he threw it to Feliks, accidentally missing and hitting Berwald, who was sitting next to the Polish man. A bothered stare was all Yao got while pushing the paper ball to Feliks.

Feliks shook with rage upon reading the note. This was so different from the usual 'oh em gee totally eye dee kay el oh el' Feliks that Yao knew, but who knows how this Feliks acts when mad.

Before the Pole could stab the paper with his pen, Toris patted his shoulder, taking the sheet of ruined paper from him.

* * *

Yao stared at Matthew, looking somewhat tired.

"Am… am I boring you?" The Canadian asked, "Sorry, I know history isn't that interesting…"

"It isn't, I know, aru." Yao sighed, closing his eyes. His head was throbbing, and he was sure that Kiku, Lovino and Elizaveta had split the Tylenol among themselves, using it all up. Yao would have to beg Tino or someone for a painkiller or two…

"Hey, Matthew, aru…"

"Yes?""Why are the Baltics not that scared of Ivan, aru?" It just came to him, with Toris and Raivis' behaviour a week or so ago.

Matthew brushed some hair from his face. "Well… he takes his 'rage' out on his siblings."

"What, aru? That's horrible, aru!"

"He's still a mental nutcase, though. So at least Iva--" The blond stopped talking as Natalia walked by, holding in his comment about her brother, "…Ivan doesn't just hurt Katyusha and Natalia when it comes to being… well, crazy."

"So her love still hates her, but even more, aru? Wonderful, aru."

Yao smiled at Matthew. "The way you talk is almost like the way you or your brother would talk like in my time, aru."

Matthew laughed, scratching the side of his head. "Really? Great…"

"…Hey, if you want to talk a break from explaining all this, you can, aru.""Really? I can?" The blond asked.

"Go ahead, aru. I fear my brain may explode soon, aru." Yao joked, smiling happily.

Nodding, Matthew stoop up, and walked away from Yao, leaving the immortal alone. Yao leant on his elbows against the table, resting his chin on his hands.

"Hey."

Yao looked over to his left, seeing a familiar, bratty Pole.

"Yes, aru?"

"I, like, soo didn't like what you wrote at that note."

The dark-haired man sighed, sitting up straighter. "I didn't either, aru. But you don't see me interrogating you about it, am I, aru?"

Feliks glared at Yao. "It's, like, your fault though!"

"How so, aru?"

"You're the one who, like, crank called Liet!"

"Is this what this is about, aru?" Yao asked calmly, "I was not crank calling him, aru. I called him by accident, aru."

Feliks was on the verge of having a temper tantrum. Yao was obviously annoyed, but kept calm. This was something that Yao loved; being the mature one in an argument. It proved that he was truly and older nation, and the years made him into a calm man. Feliks was acting like a child, immature and demanding.

"You're, like, deliberately trying to piss me off!" The blond snapped. "You're trying to be all cool and 'oh my god aru, I'm old and mature aru, soo much smarter than Feliks aru!' when, you're like, totally not!"

Yao shot a glare at Feliks. "I do _not_ act like that, aru." he hissed.

"You, like, totally do! You're obsessed with this creepy knock off cat which is soo not cool, and you think you're all high and mighty for being super-duper old!"

"Be _quiet_ , aru." Yao glared at Feliks, turning completely towards him. If Feliks didn't shut up…

The Pole was pleased at the reaction he was getting. "What'cha gonna do, huh? Are, you, like, gonna beat me with your cane? Or maybe and egg roll, mister emperor--"

Yao jumped from his seat, smacking Feliks across the face violently with a clenched fist. The Pole stumbled to the side, only to bang into the table right next to him. The two or three other nations around them gasped, about to demand why Yao randomly attacked Feliks. But the Chinese man didn't listen to them, the only one he could properly see was Feliks, who stared at Yao with shock in his eyes, his hand somewhat shaking as he touched the spot on his face where he was just hit.

"What the hell did you do that for?!" Feliks shouted, glaring at Yao. "I, like, didn't deserve _that!!_ "

Yao let the rage take over him, and launched himself at Feliks, knocking over both his own chair and North Korea's, down to the ground. He had his hands wrapped around Feliks' neck, lifting him off the ground just to slam his head back into the tile.

" _How_ dare _you, aru…_ " Yao hissed out, coughs and sputters coming from the man beneath him, Yao's small hands locked around his neck. Yao took a sharp breath in, letting go of his neck with one hand to clench his fist, then smack Feliks' face violently. He smashed his fist into his face again, and kept hitting the screaming Pole.

No one could intervene, some wanting to see a fight, but the majority of them were just shocked and scared. It could've just been another fight in the meeting room -- god know how many times Arthur and Francis or Sadiq and Heracles have fought -- but Yao never fought with anyone, and Feliks never fought with anyone but Ivan. Every other country was shocked at the unlikely fight, stuck watching rather than stopping it.

The immortal reached to the table, grabbing one of the binders that either belonged to Matthew or North Korea, and smashed it down onto Feliks, getting another scream from the Pole.

Before he could be struck again, Feliks grabbed Yao's wrist, tugging it to the side abruptly, causing the Chinese man to drop the binder.

It took him mere seconds for Yao to get off Feliks and grab him by the shirt collar, pulling him to his feet and hold his arm behind his back with Yao's other hand locked in his blond hair, preparing to smash his face into the table.

Feliks opened his eyes briefly, saw he was leaning over the table, and closed his eyes tightly again, crying while he braced himself to be smashed down.

"That's _enough!_ "

Yao's grip on Feliks was freed, being grabbed and thrown to the floor by an angry, armed Vash.

"This… this is unacceptable!" The Swiss man shouted, pointing his rifle down at Yao. "This is a neutral building! Personal matters aren't solved here, and attempted murder isn't allowed at all!!"

Scowling at Vash, Yao kicked the rifle away from him so he could get up. The angry Chinese man got to his feet and grabbed a the Swiss' neck, starting to shake the already pissed blond.

"Aniki!" Im Yong Soo shouted, being one of the three other countries pulling the immortal from Vash. (Who, at this point, was struggling to load his rifle, while Alfred and Kiku were trying to pull him from the rifle, Liechtenstein pleading with Vash to not get angry.) "Aniki, please don't get angry!"

Yao spun around, ripping himself from Lieve and Jonatan's grasp, and hit Im Yong Soo straight across the face. He froze when he saw the mortified expression on his brother's face.

Yao's hand, still clenched in a fist, started to shake, staring at the Korean, who had started crying. The immortal felt all adrenaline and rage leave him, replaced with guilt. He slowly looked around the room, watching the blank, a few surprised expressions of the other nations. They looked shocked, some older countries looking more disgusted, while younger countries looking more scared. Why wouldn't they? The oldest nation in the room just attacked three others, one of them being the youngest of the 'victims' and his own brother.

Ludwig glared over at Yao, then tapped the shoulder of Gilbert, who stood next to him. Even in the dead silence of the room, no one could properly hear what Ludwig was saying.

Gilbert nodded, turned to Francis and Antonio, mumbled something, and the three walked to Yao from behind. Antonio grabbed him by the arms, and while Yao squirmed to get out, Francis and Gilbert lifted him up in the air, holding him by his legs.

Yao's screams and demands to be let go got louder, thrashing about violently in the arms of the three men, who carried him out of the room.

"Unhand me, aru!" He screamed, trying to turn out of the trio's hold on him. Falling to the floor is hardly close to being as bad as being carried out like an animal. "Let go, aru! Get off me, aru!"

All eyes were on the four, a few moving from their statue-like stances to watch the three men carry Yao's screaming, angry form down the hall.

* * *

"Where should we leave him?"

"Hm… should we just leave him here?"

"Here? Are you sure?"

"Oui, why not?"

…

" _Je suis désolé, mon ami._ "

The last few words the trio said to him before they dropped him onto the carpeted ground weren't exactly clear, Yao was more concentrating on his sore throat from all the screaming beforehand. Sitting on the ground, against the wall, Yao started to feel somewhat in pain after being dropped on his backside.

The stares he got from everyone burned unto his mind, the angry glances and shocked expressions they gave him after giving that stupid Pole _what he deserved_ were making him mad again.

But… Im Yong Soo's scared look he gave Yao after being smacked kept crawling back to him. Yao had hit Im Yong Soo before his untimely death in his own world plenty of times, but it was just slaps on the arms and wrists for misbehaving. The event just now made Yao out to be a vicious monster when mad, not showing mercy for even his beloved sibling.

And what about Matthew? Was he going to want to be around Yao still? To help him and explain to Yao what happened in his world that made it so different from the universe he was from?

Yao stared shaking. Instead of screaming, though, he began to cry.


	6. Chapter 6

How long had he sat there?

Footsteps were approaching him, making Yao's heart leap. A mix of emotions flooded to him; shock from being woken back to reality after moping, confusion as to who it was, and embarrassment. He didn't want another nation, whoever it ma y be, see him like this; whether it be Alfred, or Feliciano, or even Feliks himself.

He hastily looked around, scrambling to his feet, looking for somewhere to hide. Of course, there was nothing, for hallways in world conference buildings weren't exactly made to hide people. So, Yao ran up the hall, turned the corner, and leant against the wall, pressing his whole body against the ugly, beige walls.

Fate must've hated him, for the footsteps simply wouldn't stop getting louder, and they stopped, no more sounds of shoes walking on carpet. Yao turned his head, and his embarrassed, blushing face met a blank, somewhat-surprised looking Roderich.

Immediate awkward silence. Roderich's eyes widened, clearly startled to see the man who was thrown out of the meeting blushing like a love-struck teenager. The immortal immediately got the odd, troubled feeling of being caught, as if the Austrian caught him stealing something.

"Wh-What are you doing here, aru?" Yao finally asked after what felt like another twenty-five years.

"…A break." Roderich cleared his throat as he spoke, coughing into his fist. "Ah… I was just going to my car." It was clear he was planning to turning on his heel and go back to the meeting room, just to get out of this… odd situation. It was indeed awkward for him, for Roderich had simply ran into the man who snapped at the meeting just an hour or so ago, and was now looking more stable, just recovering from looking like one of Antonio's prized tomatoes.

Of course, Yao knew, that if they were in different positions, and it was Roderich who went ballistic, and the "Bad Trio" had to carry _him_ out, the Chinese man would defiantly find this moment odd- no, awkward was a better word.

Silence grew over them once more. Oh, god damn it, this was painful! Someone save him from this! Why can't he just melt into the wall and disappear?

"What… what happened after I left, aru?" Better to have a discussion than awkward silence.

"We went back to the meeting after the three came back…" Roderich replied, "… Is this why they were uncomfortable when I told them I was going to my car…?"

That last thing he said sounded like an afterthought. "What do you mean, aru?"

"They didn't tell me they put you near the entrance of the building." … That was true, they just dropped him on the floor.

Yao nodded, looking ahead at the wall in front of him.

"… Why did you do that?"

His heart sank when Roderich asked that. Stupid guilt trips.

"He… he was acting like a brat, aru."

"But he always does, you should know that. He fought with Arthur big time at the meeting in Canberra, don't you remember?"

He stalled, blinking a few times.

"I don't, aru." _Another_ mention of a time he wasn't here for… "This Feliks is different from the Feliks I've known, aru."

Roderich looked at him, blinking. " 'The Feliks you've known'? What do you mean, Yao?"

Oh… oh _god_. No, he didn't really say that, did he?

Yao's turned his head slowly to look at Roderich, his eyes wide with surprise. It was just a slip of the tongue, and now he had just shoved Roderich into the 'this world, my world' mess…

"I-It's nothing-"

"Yao," The Austrian repeated, now clearly growing agitated (No surprise), "Answer me."

Yao swallowed, looking at Roderich with worried and somewhat-tired looking eyes. "You won't understand what I'm going to say, aru."

Go ahead, try me." Why did that sound like a threat?

Yao looked away, staring at the floor again. "I'll say it straight, aru. I'm not from here, aru."

"…What…?"

He knew it. "Not from this earth, aru."

Roderich was silent once more, staring at the side of Yao's head. Yao's face grew red once more; please, _please_ someone tell him that this was just a dream, that he fell asleep during the meeting, and that this wasn't really happening…

Yao sighed, and closed his eyes, ignoring the heat spreading across his face. "You think I may be on some sort of drugs, don't you, aru?"

The Austrian didn't reply. Thankfully.

The immortal decided to go on, "This earth… it's… nothing's the same, aru. It's nothing I'm familiar with, it's why I'm out of it." What was he doing? Roderich was just getting more and more confused…

"You're all different from my - the real world, aru. Feliks isn't a childish brat, aru. Alfred and Arthur don't get along as well as they do here, aru. My family isn't as tight knit, aru. Im Yong Soo is _dead_ , and I'm probably responsible for it. I… I don't know why I'm here, aru."

He looked up. Yao still didn't make eye contact with Roderich, but he felt the embarrassment leave him, and he was feeling confident, as if he was giving orders to his people and not talk about the issue with his life. "But… my real question is… why is this happening, aru?"

"… What are you trying to say?"

Yao began to look sad as he continued. "I just want to go back, aru. Back to a time where… where I knew what was happening, aru. I want to leave this place and go back to the people I properly know and love, not these false imitations of them, aru."

The Chinese man turned his head to Roderich. He looked distraught now, almost like he was going to plead for his life. "Roderich… am I asking for too much and I just don't know it, aru?"

Roderich opened his mouth, closed it, and then spoke again, "Yao, I…"

Yao frowned sadly, looking down at both of their feet. "I just… don't want to mess up on anything, aru."

* * *

The drive to the airport was quiet, uneventful. Im Yong Soo didn't make any eye contact with and of his siblings, instead starting out the window and watching the cars fly by them. He didn't speak once, didn't send one hateful glare at Yao, not _anything_. It was honestly killing Yao, he wanted to hear that annoying-yet-so-cheerful voice, to see those eyes automatically brighten up at the sound of Yao talking to him. Meimei, Hong Kong and Kiku were forced to sit in the uncomfortable, awkward silence, clear on their faces that driving home with Vietnam and Thailand would've been better.

Yao focused on driving, also finding the silence excruciatingly painful to sit through, but he knew it was partially (… alright, it was completely) his fault. He had a couple of urges to turn on the air-conditioning, open a window, or turn on one of the hundreds of talk shows (granted, they'd be German) on the radio to ease the silence, but he didn't; they'd be getting out of the car soon anyways.

The flight home to China was uneventful, too. Yao knew he had irked Im Yong Soo, and he was ready to apologize. But, when he took a seat in the vacant chair next to the Korean, Im Yong Soo promptly stood up, glared down at China to move his legs, and left the set of chairs to sit next to Kiku. It would've been the boy's dream to sit next to his aniki - with Yao even willingly volunteering to sit next to him - but… Yao must've hurt him badly.

That glare was especially setting Yao off; he had seen it before. Granted, it was his own, real world, but… the sight of the Korean man giving him such a hateful stare was enough to send a chill down Yao's spine; all he needed was a uniform on and he'd look so eerily like North Korea. With such a dark image in his head, Yao had to let Kiku drive them home in Beijing.

Walking towards the house, Meimei hastily ran inside, stopping only to slide off her shoes, and ran to her room: a rather smart choice, to avoid any future arguments that could happen, at least until dinner. Hong Kong had disappeared into the kitchen (That was the only thing Yao really smiled at that night, he would forever joke around with the boy over that, the 'housewife' of their family) trying to do what Meimei did, and hide. Kiku had also retreated to his own room, leaving Yao and Im Yong Soo in the hall.

This silence was killing him. Yao bit down on his lower lip, watching Im Yong Soo being to walk away.

"I-I'm sorry, aru!" he blurted out, not caring he sounded like a desperate child begging its mother for forgiveness.

Im Yong Soo stopped, and turned his head back, staring at Yao with an unfeeling look on his face. His cute smile was not present, neither were his hyperactive eyes or his little giggle when Yao spoke to him. Just a dull stare, looking oh-so much like Kiku when he was annoyed. "Aniki is sorry?" He croaked out, his voice cracking at the sudden words coming from his throat. Yao could hear his Korean accent so much easier like this. "Is he really sorry he hit Im Yong Soo?"

"I am, aru." the immortal replied, not daring to show that the third-person was going to annoy him. "I- Aniki is very sorry, aru."

"If aniki is really sorry…" the Korean said, "Why doesn't he sound sorry? He doesn't sound truly sorry at _all_."

"Aniki is very, very sorry, aru." Yao quickly replied. "Aniki will do anything Im Yong Soo wants to be truly forgiven, aru. Aniki was angry at Feliks for being a brat, aru. He was stressed, he didn't mean to take his anger out on Im Yong Soo, aru."

Im Yong Soo turned around fully. Replacing that dark glare was a bit of confusion. "Why is aniki stressed? Is it because of Im Yong Soo? Or Feliks? Or even something else?"

Yao stalled. No, he couldn't tell Im Yong Soo. It didn't matter if the boy believed him or not, it wouldn't ease any pain he had over Yao hitting him. It would make him confused and angrier, since it would easily sound like Yao was making up excuses.

"Aniki… aniki is just stressed out at Feliks, aru. Feliks was just annoying him, aru. It's nothing, aru." Yao chose his words carefully, making sure not to have _another_ slip of tongue.

Im Yong Soo kept that confused expression, but the tone of his voice made it clear he got it. "If aniki is stressed out because of that Polack," Yong Soo spat out that demonym like it was poison, " then Im Yong Soo will gladly teach him a lesson in not annoying aniki ever again."

"Im Yong Soo- no, aru! Don't you dare hurt Feliks, aru!" This side of the Korean was scary, oh so scary, because it was just… not normal.

Im Yong Soo reluctantly nodded, Yao beginning to walk past him. He brushed past the Korean's arm, striding towards the kitchen.

He was stopped suddenly when he felts hands on his shoulders, then pulled into a hug from behind from Im Yong Soo.

"Aniki… do you hate me?"

The question was… sudden.

"O-Of course I don't, aru." Yao fumbled his words, a crimson flush spread up from under his collar.

"Are you sure…?" Im Yong Soo asked, his voice seeming to be that of a child's, innocent and wondering. "I don't think so, I think you do, I know that you like Kiku much more."

"I do not, aru! That's not true, aru!" It's a lie. They both know that. If their house was burning down, Yao would get Kiku out of there first, Im Yong Soo would be a second thought.

"Aniki…" Im Yong Soo went on, "I realize that you're stressed and annoyed, and even though I don't know what it's about, listen to me." He turned Yao around to face him. Yao tried not to look at the Korean but his eyes kept slipping back to his face.

"Aniki, I don't want to see you suffer from whatever is troubling you." He stated, "If you feel bad, I want to know, so I can help you heal from any pain you're feeling. I don't want to see my aniki so sad."

Yao blinked a few times. Im Yong Soo.. He was concerned and he was serious. The Korean was looking for an answer, but Yao's eyes were darting left, right, all around the room, anywhere to look but Im Yong Soo's eyes. His heart in his mouth, he couldn't bring himself to talk.

Im Yong Soo's lips trembled into an insecure smile, and pulled his brother into a hug. Yao felt great warmth spread through him from Im Yong Soo. He stayed frozen in his spot, mentally kicking himself for not hugging him back.

"I hope you feel better, aniki."

When Im Yong Soo pulled away, all warmth from Yao left him, even his own body heat. He was once warm, like outside on a warm summer's day. And then, he was freezing, like standing in the coldest parts of the world. Slowly he began to feel warmer when Im Yong Soo left him to either watch one of his Korean dramas or help (maybe harass) Hong Kong in the kitchen.

Yao's eyelids fluttered and then finally stayed open, replaying the moment that just happened in his head. He began moving, walking up the short steps to the upstairs (He had got to stop calling them steps, you would hardly call it a seconds floor; a well executed jump could get you up the steps immediately) thinking about Im Yong Soo, specifically the actions the Korean just displayed. Was that what Yao was ignoring when Yong Soo was really alive? Just a gentle young man, who was only concerned about the wellbeing of his older brother? Neglect must've made him clingy…

He strode past Meimei's door to his own, opening the door. He took a seat on the futon, leaning against the wall. Yao sighed, looking over to his right to find the bottle of huangjiu he had left there, ever since Matthew's visit over. Oh god, he truly was lazy, the wine had probably gotten a bitter taste since then. The cup he had had been brought down, so the wine had to be drunk - how Alfred would say - bottoms up.

Taking a large gulp, the liquid poured down his throat, burning at the large swig taken. Yao's lips puckered into a pout at the burning sensation, but he tried to ignore the fact that his throat was going to be set on fire in the next few minutes; the more his throat hurt, the less chance one of his siblings questioned him over the conversation he had with Im Yong Soo. He probably was going to regret this by dinner…

Taking another sip, he began to wonder how Ivan could stand drinking vodka from the bottle day after day. That was pure alcohol, this was nothing compared to that…

Yao pulled the bottle from his lips, looking at it, and it's dull and boring brown colour, with a cheap gold coloured label stuck on it. He swished the bottle around in a small circle, listening to the liquid splash around in it.

He bit down very lightly on his lower lip, then let his lip slip from his teeth. Yao ran his tongue over his upper teeth and then closed his mouth. still staring at that bottle. The immortal, with dull, bored eyes, over-turned the bottle, spilling the contents onto the floor.

The green-toned wood was stained with the red liquor, the liquid splashing all over the floor, droplets splashing onto Yao. The once light green was now darkened, still green but much deeper, the wine staining it.

His eyes were overcastted, boredly watching the wine set into the floor; he could just smell it seep in, it was going to take ages to clean up properly. He ran a finger over the wet wood, the wine giving his index finger a red tint, a bloody colour.

Yao looked at his fingertip, his going a little watchful. The wine dripped down and off his finger, exactly like how water would. Bringing the wine-stained finger to his mouth, he flicked his tongue out, licking some off. Hm, what if it did taste like blood-

His eyes shot open wide, realizing what he was thinking about, and abruptly kicked the bottle away, letting it roll away and crash into the wall ahead of him.

Why the hell… was he _thinking_ of that?

His once dull, lifeless eyes had filled with fear and disgust, Yao now hugging his knees to his chest. Yao tried to ignore those horrible, cruel thoughts in his head; _'What if that was indeed blood, aru?' 'Whose was it, aru?'_

He stuck his tongue out, disgusted, and let go of his legs. With little difficulty, he got to his feet and off the futon, stepping over the spilt liquor - he'd have to mop that up later - to the door, out into the hall.

Meimei crept out of her room, too, and saw Yao in his doorway. The Chinese man gave her a small, insecure smile, only getting a cold stare back from the Taiwanese girl. She quickly scampered down the hall, the down the steps. Yao blinked, frowning.

He made his way down the hall and to the steps, stopping on the first step down. He took a glance into the kitchen from around the corner, looking inside and watching his siblings. Hong Kong was over a pot of bubbling, boiling water, who knows what he was cooking. Meimei's voice was heard, Yao unable to see her from where he stood.

"For once, I feel sorry for Yong Soo…" she said, "I mean, Yao-san must really hate him."

Hong Kong turned his head to the right, looking over his shoulder to where Meimei probably say. "Yao does not hate him. Don't gossip, Meimei, has being around Seychelles done this?""Seychelles and I don't gossip!" She snapped, "And don't act like Kiku-san or someone older than me! That's beside the point! My point is, Yao-san was extremely rude to Im Yong Soo, and he was too harsh!"

"Meimei, I honestly don't see-" Hong Kong's words died in his throat when thumping from down the hall filled his ears, a certain Korean rushing into the kitchen, holding a bag of… was it rice?

"Got it!" Im Yong Soo exclaimed, laughing as he spoke. He practically threw it at Hong Kong, who grabbed it without reacting much, even though he could've easily stumbled back and put his elbow into the hot, hot water. "It was all I could find, it's a small bag, Kiku probably ate the rest up, da ze~!"

Hong Kong gave him a dull, un-amused stare, before pouring the bag's contents into the pot. Yes, that was defiantly rice, the grains fell into other water in a waterfall-like fashion. Hong Kong glanced over his shoulder, probably giving Meimei a glance that meant "Don't say anything."

"You know, Hong…" the Korean said, balancing on his heels.

"Yes?"

"Aniki is right, you're a very cute housewife!"

Yao found this to be his que to rush in and stop Hong Kong before he hit Im Yong Soo with the boiling hot ladle.

* * *

"Hey, housewife-"

" _What_ did you call me?"

"Nothing…"

The five of them sat around the table, all eating while Im Yong Soo clearly had a death wish, still testing Hong Kong's patience. Hong Kong could be scary when mad, the whole family knew that… Yao was going to have to step in soon…

"Aiyah, don't be so rude, Im Yong Soo, aru." Yao piped up after swallowing a bit of rice.

"I'm just having fun, aniki~!" the Korean giggled, stealing some rice from Kiku's bowl, making the Japanese man frown.

"And don't steal from Kiku, aru."

"Like I said, aniki, I'm just having fun~! Learn to have some!"

"… Im Yong Soo-san, I do not appreciate the fact you're stealing from me."

Before Im Yong Soo could take more from Kiku, Yao swatted his hand away. Pouting, Im Yong Soo went back to his own food, still eyeing the bowl of rice belonging to Kiku.

"Don't, aru."

"Fiiiine…"

Yao took another mouthful of rice, feeling eyes boring into his head. He glanced around at his siblings in front of him: Im Yong Soo finally back to his own food, Kiku as stoic as ever, Hong Kong staring down at his plate, and Meimei's bitter, annoyed glare.

He felt the air grow still immediately, Meimei glaring right at him. Soft, worry-some brown eyes met angry, bothered blue, Meimei leaning against her palm, her mouth pulled into a tight frown. The way this girl smiled reminded Yao of her 'mother' nation, Vietnam (No, Yao didn't think of the Vietnamese woman that way, she was just what he had to call the 'mother' of their families.) and her frowns and glares reminded him even _more_ of Vietnam. Kind of eerie, but Yao knew Vietnam didn't hate him for no reason.

Yao took bigger bites so he could finish quickly, and get out of the "You're-being-rude-again" stare he was receiving. Quickly, he got his dishes, stood up, put them in the basin sink and sped out, quick, sharp steps out of the kitchen and into the hall.

Im Yong Soo took not of Yao suddenly leaving, and turned back to the rest of the table.

"Meimei, that wasn't very nice, you didn't have to be so cruel…" he said.

"Well, _Yao-san_ deserved it." she retorted, taking a mouthful of rice.

"No, Meimei-chan, Im Yong Soo-san is right." Kiku replied.

"He is not, nii-san!"

"See? Even Kiku agrees! You're too harsh on aniki!"

"I was siding with you!"

"Don't you see how stressed he is?"

Meimei glared at Yong Soo. "Yong Soo, why so defensive? _Yao-san_ isn't a holy god, he's a rude old man whose hurting people who don't deserve it-"

"Don't you _dare_ talk about aniki like that!"" Im Yong Soo shouted, grabbing Meimei's shoulders and started to shake her. "He deserves more respect than what you give him! You saw how he was at the meeting, even before Feliks was being rude!"

"Im Yong Soo-san, let go of her this instant!" Kiku demanded, now grabbing the Korean himself. "She did nothing wrong!"

Meimei was cursing incoherent nonsense, pulling back from the angry Korean, who was keeping a tight grip on her. Hong Kong was pulling her away, and with Kiku shouting at Im Yong Soo and pulling _him_ back, the kitchen was full of the sound of their bickering voices, it becoming a tug-of-war match over the Korean boy and Taiwanese girl.

"Don't disrespect aniki!"

"Get him off me _get him off me!_ "

" _Are you listening to me? Take it back! Take it back!_ "

Kiku finally freed Meimei of Im Yong Soo's grip, ripping the Korean back.

"Im Yong Soo-san, that is _enough._ Go to your room this instant."

Im Yong Soo spun around the face Kiku, an insult dancing on the end of his tongue, a bitter glare on Im Yong Soo's face. He wanted to shout at him, to curse at him, to tell all the wrong things Kiku was doing to try and defend Meimei, ready to hit Kiku as hard as he possibly could, but he knew he couldn't. Aniki would hate him forever. The Japanese man's annoyed glare was setting Im Yong Soo off. No, not just annoyed, Yong Soo could've sworn he saw a smug, know-it-all glimmer in Kiku's eyes, as if the Japanese man was dying to say, "You must listen to me. Yao will get angry if you disobey me, and he hates you enough already."

Im Yong Soo shut his eyes and clenched his teeth, shaking his head, as if it would clear his thoughts. The Korean got to his feet and left the room, resisting the dying urge to kick Kiku in the back of the head (or neck, if he got lucky). He left the kitchen and all the awkward feelings in it, stumbling up the stairs. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, holding in the sudden tears, feeling deep regret for lashing out at Meimei.

The Korean stopped outside Yao's door, leaning against it. He wanted to walk in and see his aniki, to apologize if he was the real reason Yao was upset, stressed and snappy. He wanted to go in and ask all of that, but of course, he didn't. Im Yong Soo stared down at the floor beneath him, his socked feet sticking out from under his hanbok.

Im Yong Soo frowned, resting his head against the door. He sighed, closing his eyes. Why… why was he so bleak today? So tired, so different,.. He didn't feel joyful or hyperactive. It was defiantly because of what aniki did at the meeting, he knew that, but… even after all was forgiven, he still hadn't given aniki a full, happy smile. It was tired and almost bored, like it was their roles reversed, with Yao running up to him and shoving treasures and toys in his face while Im Yong Soo wanted to be alone. He felt alone, for some reason, even though his whole family was still here… he just didn't know why. Im Yong Soo was never sad.

So why was aniki so sad recently?


	7. Chapter 7

With shaking hands, he lifted up the phone, staring down at the buttons. It was talking him a bit of remembering Matthew's number… (Never would he let said man know that, know, he's probably become insulted.)

It finally hit him, and Yao began punching the numbers in, holding the receiver to his ear, listening to the dial tone.

' _Hello?'_

"Matthew."

The accent was what defiantly made Matthew stall. A sigh from the other line, and then he replied, rather stiffly, "Hey, Yao."

Yao frowned. "Don't be so discreet, aru. I… I need to talk to you, aru."

"What is it?" his voice was still stiff and annoyed. This was when Yao realized it was probably late in Ontario… He felt rather sheepish at that thought, but shrugged it off.

The immortal held his forehead against his palm, trying to ignore the sudden depressed feeling washing over him. He closed his eyes, sighing. "I really want to go back, aru."

There was no response from the other line. Had Matthew suddenly fallen asleep, and crashed down to the floor while the phone hung from the receiver? Before he could assume a bunch of things, he heard a sigh. "You're acting like I can do that for you-"

"I know you can't, aru! I just can't handle this anymore, aru!"

Yao could've sworn he heard a chuckle from Matthew. "It's only been… what, two weeks? And you've snapped already?"

Yao frowned, glaring bitterly at the wall. "I have not snapped, aru."

"Your attack on Feliks says otherwise."

Yao didn't know how to respond to that. Insulted that Matthew was acting like this and had brought up something he'd happily forget? Or submissively agree to the jab at his pride, like Raivis falling to Ivan's 'persuasions'?

"Aiyah, don't bring that up, aru. Don't try that, it's rude and uncalled for, aru." That would work, wouldn't it? Jabbing at Matthew as well? Matthew was being so rude, and Yao could only take it and not fight back, with the blond being arrogant in his time of need. Yao had no clue if this was a side effect of this universe, or it Matthew really was like this. (Well, it's not like Yao talked to him any other time!)

If Matthew was standing in front of the immortal, and they were conversing over the phone, Yao probably would've guessed that the Canadian would be rolling his eyes. "Fine." Tch, liar.

"I just want to go back, aru." He went on, "I want to return to the time I love, aru."

"I honestly don't know what is wrong," Matthew stated, "I mean… who knows what's keeping you here, or why you're here, for starters."

"I want to go back to my perfect world, aru. Compared to this, my other one was wonderful, aru. This one is too gentle and serene, and I feel so out of place, aru. The other one, as chaotic as it got, made me feel… in place, aru."

Matthew was quiet again. "You know that, in your perfect world, Im Yong Soo doesn't exist?"

Yao quirked an eyebrow. "What- yes, I do realize that-"

"Your perfect world involves my brother and our father figure loathing each other's whole being, but of course, you don't find concern in that? As long as you're happy, it's okay? And three men are tortured daily in your perfect world by Ivan, but again, is that any of your concern? No, it's alright! Yao's happy, that's all that matters!" Matthew's voice was rising in volume, shouting into the phone receiver.

"Ma-"

"Face it, Yao. There is _no such thing as a perfect world._ "

The line went dead. Yao listened to the beeping noise on the phone, as if the Canadian would pick up again, and they'd keep talking. His words sunk into him, though, and it was hurting to think about.

'There's no such thing as a perfect world.'

It was so true, yet Yao didn't want to admit it was the truth. He could live a life in denial, of course he could. It was much easier to deny the truth. Living in blissful ignorance over not having a perfect, peaceful world was fine enough.

* * *

Im Yong Soo looked up at the sound of a door opening. He didn't react to seeing Yao walk out of his room. He just gave a small, dull, "Hi, aniki."

Yao looked over at the Korean. "Hello, Yong Soo, aru."

Said man looked at Yao, with those tired, depressed eyes, the same ones he wore when they got home. They both just stood there, not making a single sound, both of them equally tired, upset, and almost ill feeling.

"Yong Soo-"

"I'm sorry aniki!" Im Yong Soo suddenly wailed, throwing himself at Yao. He wrapped his arms around his brother's body, hugging him close and tightly, burying his face into Yao's shoulder.

"Yong Soo, aru! What are you doing-"

"Aniki, Yong Soo is super, super sorry! He didn't mean to be so rude to aniki earlier!" Im Yong Soo cried over Yao's words, "I made you feel sad and upset! I didn't want to do that! I'm really sorry!"

This was when Yao realized how tall his Korean brother was.

He wasn't Berwald height or Ivan height, oh heavens no. Yao know that. But he was defiantly taller than he remembered. He pulled back from the hug, just a tiny bit, enough so he could see Im Yong Soo's tearstained face staring down at him. Yao, truthfully, hated people staring down at him. But he'd let this slide, for once. Im Yong Soo had to pull back on Yao's ponytail, moving his head back to look at him. He was defiantly taller than Yao remembered.

"Aniki-"

"It's okay, aru." Yao calmly interrupted him, smiling up at Yong Soo. "I forgive you, aru. I apologized, you just apologized, so it's all good, aru."

Yao hugged him back, and then Im Yong Soo hugged him back. That warmth, it returned. It spread through Yao, making the Chinese immortal drowsy, tired, wanting to just let go of Im Yong Soo and fall back into his room, and crashing on the floor. He hadn't felt like this with anyone he hugged in an affectionate (or protective) way; not Kiku, not Vietnam, not Ivan, no one. This was the first time this kind of peace rushed over him.

But it was cut short once more. Im Yong Soo pulled back completely, letting go of Yao, and a wave of icy coldness ran over him, as if Yao was standing right in Siberia. Yao gave a shudder, hoping Yong Soo didn't notice, as he felt really, really cold. His own body heat slowly began to return, but it still felt like something was missing.

"Aniki… is there anything I can do?" The Korean boy asked, "I wanna do something for you, to make it up…"

"No need, aru. You've made it up to me enough, aru."

"How?"

Yao looked at the Korean, a small, warm smile on his face, with a hint of a mischievous tone to it. "Just by returning, aru."

Im Yong Soo quirked and eyebrow, looking quite confused and curious. Yao simply chuckled, giving Im Yong Soo a pat on the shoulder.

It felt good to confuse people sometimes.

* * *

He was starting to long for that warmth again. He didn't even want Im Yong Soo. Just the nice, peaceful feeling that came with him. He didn't want to let that feeling go; for if he did, it may float away, and leave him, to never return and will forever leave him lonely. Yao was allowed to be greedy, wasn't he?

He probably was going to feel guilty in using his brother like this later on, but he couldn't help it. He felt at bliss when around him. Now, he felt this way with Kiku, as well, but he couldn't help but think he was starting to favour Im Yong Soo. No, that wasn't the case, he was just _using_ him, as he was putting it.

_Aiyah, I'm sounding just like Matthew._

"Yao, you seem distant."

His favourite nation just broke through his favourite hallucination. He snapped his head over to Kiku, gazing right at his sibling. "How so, aru?"

"You seem lost in your own thoughts," Kiku replied, "It's odd. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, aru. I swear I am." Yao replied. He tried to put on a wary, small, feeble smile, trying to lead the Japanese man astray. For whatever reason.

That would never work, Yao should learn this.

"Yao, I can tell you're not well." Kiku said, somewhat sternly, "Are you honestly dead-set on trying to confuse me?"

A small, raspy chuckle came from Yao's throat. The concern Kiku was showing for him was a nice change, and it really did make the immortal happy. But, of course, Kiku decided to actually talk to him during a time where he'd like to just please himself with his own fantasies, right? The world was cruel like that. He kept that small smile on his face, continuously trying to fool Kiku.

"I am sure, aru. If I feel upset or distressed, I'll come to you." No, he'd probably go to Matthew, Matthew knew what was happening. "Thank you for your concern, Kiku, aru."

Kiku stalled in replying. Did he want to really interrogate his brother right now? Or leave him and respect his wishes?

"… Very well."

Kiku turned, and began walking away. The Chinese man looked away, not watching his brother leave him.

Sitting there, Yao felt… at bliss. No, going completely against what he was thinking about earlier, he felt calm and not rushed for anything. He could sit there, letting the somewhat harsh wind (not that he cared) blow right by him, playing with his silk clothing and his smooth skin, flowing through his tied-back hair. The wind was pushing all his troubles away. Leaving Yao alone with a peaceful mind, in complete Zen, as if he was doing yoga, nothing would interrupt him, nothing would shake him from this stance until he wanted to stop…

"Yao."

Except that.

Yao looked over to the boy, looking right at the mannequin he called a brother. "What is it, Hong Kong, aru?"

Said boy kept a stone cold expression. "Would you like anything to drink?""If you could bring out a tea set, that would be very nice, aru."

Hong Kong turned back and left, back into the house, not even giving his brother so much as an "Alright," or "Okay, I'll be right back."

"How rude, aru…"

* * *

When Hong Kong came back outside, Yao had invited him to stay, pulling up two cups for both of them, pouring the tea. How nice, sitting with his youngest sibling, drinking tear around a time where, in his real life, he'd be begging Arthur to let him visit the boy.

One problem, though. Less of a problem and more of a noticeable difference

Hong Kong was putting nothing in his tea. Just the murky, dark liquid was being drunk plain. Yao had nothing against this, hell, he wasn't even upset, but it was such a change to see Hong Kong _not_ crinkle his nose and forcefully gulp down his tea, not longing for the taste of sugar, honey or milk in his drink, something Yao had to put up with in the present day, even after fourteen years of having his brother back.

"Yao, you look distant again."

"My apologies, aru."

Taking a sip of his own drink, Yao took a quick glance over at Hong Kong. Said boy had his eye closed, mind set on taking a tip of his tea. Yao felt, again, at peace, smiling to himself as he pulled the cup from his lips. Why couldn't he have moments like this with Meimei? He didn't understand why she loathed him so much; this was something he would've loved to have changed. He'll live through it hopefully.

"Hong Kong…"

Said nation pulled his lips from the tea cup, opening his eyes. "Yes?"

"Would you like anything added to your tea, aru?" Might as well try his luck, something he's been doing far too much here.

The boy made not change to his facial expression. "Anything to my tea?" he repeated, "Why would I do that?"Oh. "I have tried the way Arthur prepares tea, aru. Not to my liking," of course not. Yao hated the way the Englishman drank his tea. Milk and sugar didn't make the tea any better when it was in your stomach. "But, maybe you'd care for it, aru?"

To the untrained eye, Hong Kong did nothing But, taking a closer look, Yao noticed the boy's right eye twitched ever so slightly, probably striking a nerve in the usually expressionless boy, annoyance ready to flash across his face. Despite his annoyed feelings, he still spoke calmly. "No thank you, Yao. I have no interest in trying that-" the word 'disgusting' play on the end of Hong Kong's tongue, half of the word already said. Hong Kong shut his mouth immediately, the smallest hint of red spreading onto his cheeks, stalling in continuing his sentence after almost disrespecting a nation far older than he. "-unique way of drinking tea."

Oh, Yao wished Hong Kong was like this - flustered at a mistake he made - much more often. He'd be so much cuter. "Alright, aru. Sorry for bringing it up, aru."

"No need to apologize…" Hong Kong quickly took another sip of his tea, turning from his aniki, embarrassed at the near-insult he just said.

Yao let out an amused little chuckle, soon drinking again, draining the cup of all its contents. He pours some more of the pot's liquid into the cup, resuming his drinking. This, now, was very nice. Not a sound from either of the males, both just enjoying the silence outside. Any noise would probably be cost-effective, ruining the Zen the two were in.

So Im Yong Soo had the right idea to stay silent while watching his brothers enjoy their peace, not shouting out, "Hey, Honglet! Can I ask you something~?"

The Korean stayed silent, keeping an eye on Yao and Hong Kong. He felt the peace practically radiate off the scene; Yong Soo didn't have the heart to interrupt his aniki and sibling. The Korean slipped back through the door, back inside the house. His question for Hong Kong faded from his thoughts, moving farther and farther from the outside. His insides started to churn, turning into tight knots, his mouth pulled into a frown. His fists were clenched.

_Are you jealous?_

Unwittingly, Im Yong Soo snapped out at no one, "Yes."

And, frankly, admitting that made him sick. It hurt to admit he envied Hong Kong and the attention he was getting from aniki. He didn't hate Hong Kong, so why did the fact said boy was spending time with Yao make him upset?

_Are you angry? Jealous that Yao is showing favourism?_

"Tch. Aniki doesn't show favourism. He loves every single one of us."

_You know he loves Kiku more. And even so, Meimei herself is clearly more respected than you._

"You're a liar." He grumbled, crossing his arms and furrowing his brow. "Aniki loves me. And Meimei. And Hong Kong. And Kiku. He shows no favourism, because he shows us all equal attention."

_I find it cute to think he loves you._

Im Yong Soo let out a coarse laugh. Nothing like his usual laugh, which was something of a mix of a loud, wound up music box and a siren of some sort. It was a coarse, rough laugh, a laugh he never, ever uses. Using this laugh scared him, in a way. "Aniki wouldn't be mean like that. I love him, he is the greatest friend ever, and I know he loves me back. I realize I annoy him sometimes, but I know he cares about me just as much as he cares about Kiku."

Consciences suck, Im Yong Soo realized. This voice in his head was trying to make him doubt and hate aniki. "No, this won't work. You're trying to make me hate my aniki. I could never hate him, it's not going to work at all."

_You're putting all your 110% effort into this relationship. And he's only putting 50%._

"He does enough."

And then the voice left.


	8. Chapter 8

Groggily, Yao cracked open his eyes, staring forward and coming face to face with pink and white, most likely made of silk or a soft material. Rolling onto his back with a groan, Yao looked up at Meimei, who was next to his bed, the owner of the clothing that was right in his face.

"Oh, good morning, Mei-"

"About time you woke up!" Meimei hissed, "I was lightly shaking you before I figured that wouldn't work! I was ready to slap you before you came to."

Yao frowned. "I was having a nightmare, thank you very much, aru."

To his surprise, Meimei's bitter expression softened. "About what?"

He swallowed; tell her a lie or not? "About… my friends dying, aru."

Meimei played with a hole in her sleeve, avoiding eye contact with her older brother. She stared at the floor, then quickly glanced over to the calendar on the wall (It read 'November 3rd', with the cute picture of three dogs running around in a frost covered scene, probably to enjoy the last bit of playtime before winter truly rolled in.), and then at the wall behind Yao, anywhere but the man on the bed. "Why would you dream about such things?"

Yao sat up, and patted her hand. She pouted at the contact, but did nothing else. "Because… I had a nightmare of me dying in the same way once, aru."

Meimei finally looked up at him, staring at the space next to his ear. She kept an 'uncomfortably worried' frown, similar to one you'd give to someone who just told you their dog may have to be put down. _Maybe that dog wasn't feeling good,_ Yao thought, tempted to smirk, _So he couldn't go join the other three in the calendar that day._ "Why are you having these dreams, Yao?" Meimei asked.

Yao shrugged, letting out a sigh. "I'm not sure, Meimei," there was a need to lie there; Yao had gotten too used to lying nowadays, "But I'm sure nothing will come of it, aru. You don't need to worry, aru."

Meimei nodded, still not really looking at her aniki. "And, um, Yao…"

"Yes?"

She bit on her bottom lip, wondering what to say. "Have… you noticed something odd about Yong Soo?"

"No… why, aru?"

"He was talking to himself yesterday."

He tilted his head. "When?"

"Around… noon, I think."

Yao shrugged his shoulders again. "I was out with Hong Kong, aru. I never noticed him, aru."

_You never do._

That snide voice in his head spoke out, speaking out with such a rude undertone that it sent a chill down his spine. Yao nibbled on the tip of his tongue, trying his best to not kick up a conversation (read as; argument) with his conscience. It would be like trying to talk to Matthew when he was in his rude personality.

"Well," Meimei stated, "I don't think there's something _wrong,_ per se. It just seems like he thinks out loud."

Yao let out a short laugh. "How cute."

* * *

"Hong Kong, would you like me to help you with the dishes-"

"No."

"Hong Kong," Yao hissed, "Do not speak to him in that tone, aru."

Glancing back, with an apathetic look, Hong Kong stared at Yao, possibly thinking, _"I just denied Kiku, that's all, don't treat him like your sweet little pet."_ But Yao knew Hong Kong better, and that there was a good chance he _wasn't_ thinking of that. But at the same time, there was a chance he was indeed thinking of derogatory words to send to his aniki. Hong Kong turned back to the sink, rolling up his sleeves and turning on the faucet. Kiku looked at Yao, nodding and mouthing 'Thank you'. Yao smiled back in response.

Yao pulled his 'favourite sibling' along with him out of the kitchen. Kiku followed after him willingly. Pulling him farther down the hall to the outside, Kiku said, "Hong Kong has been quite rude as of recently."

Yao nodded. "I'd assume he's mad, but over what, I have no clue, aru."

Kiku was about to open his mouth and speak, half of the word "Well" already spoken, bit then closed his mouth, similar to what Hong Kong himself did the other day. For once, Yao didn't want to ponder on what he was going to say; honestly, he feared Kiku was going to bring up Berlin.

Closing the door behind them, Kiku continued to follow Yao outside, still having his sleeve pulled on. Yao was excited, but what for? No reason. Kiku himself found out that Yao always got giddy at the idea of being with the Japanese male. Kiku found this out long ago, as a child. He found it cute, that even when he did bad things, Yao would be waiting for him afterwards to hang out with him, as long as nobody interrupted them. It was sweet, in a way.

Linking arms with him (Properly this time, so his sleeve wasn't being pulled on), Yao's mind started to fill with nostalgic memories of Kiku as a child, when there was no tensions or complications between the two, before anything happened, before even _this,_ whatever _this_ was, happened. Yao with a bright, happy grin on his face, and Kiku the opposite. In contrast, Kiku followed alongside him with an apathetic stare, boring into the tree ahead of him, a curved slit he would probably call a smile on his face. Maybe he was in his own world too; a world of either salted salmon or conversations with Yao.

Maybe a conversation about salted salmon.

"So, Yao…"

"Yes?" Yao looked over at Kiku, with those big, curious, glassy eyes of his.

"Is there anything you want to do?"

Yao looked him while he thought; he was content with walking and talking. "I'm fine with just talking, aru."

Kiku, while Yao was looking upwards, stole a glance back to the house - he could've sworn he saw someone, and he did. His Korean sibling was standing at the door, watching the two. Yong Soo wasn't exactly trying to hide himself; he was standing right out in the open. Kiku, although suspicious, didn't let anything show on his face, just gave Yong Soo a small, pleasant smile. Yong Soo, equally suspicious, glared at the two, his left hand gripping the doorframe, clutching it tightly.

Kiku gave him a teasing wave, the one a grown woman would give a young child when the young child smiles up at her, while Yao suggested where the two could walk, what they could do, and what they could do after. But Kiku chose to cut that short.

"I'll be right back," He said, speaking over Yao, and broke from him.

Yao quirked a brow. "What? Where are you going, aru?"

"Oh, I'll be back out," Kiku said, "I just have to go get something."

"Alright, then."

Kiku walked back inside the house, swiftly following Yong Soo, who had made a break for it, bounding down hallways to his own room, saying things to himself like, "Shut up," or "It's not my fault."

He followed up the stairs, pushing open to Yong Soo's bedroom. He saw the Korean sitting down, right at his feet, once leaning against the door. Yong Soo looked up, and spun around, backing up on the ground to give Kiku his space.

"Hi, Kiku," Yong Soo said dully.

"Yong Soo," The Japanese male said, "What was that all about? Are you okay?"He stared up at him. "What? No, I'm fine."

"I heard you on the way up here," Kiku said, "You were saying things like 'Shut up' to yourself." Stalling. "Were you talking about yourself? Because I didn't say anything worthy of being told to shut up."

Yong Soo hugged his knees close to his chest, staring at Kiku's knees. "You… heard that?""I wasn't that far behind."

The Korean pouted, making an odd little "Neh" sound. "… I thought I was just thinking that! That's embarrassing; I don't want to think out loud!"

Kiku laughed, kneeling down in front of his sibling, putting a hand on his shoulder and patting it.

"It's okay," Kiku said, "I honestly don't care, it's kind of cute."

Im Yong Soo stared at Kiku Honda, confusion and curiosity shining in his eyes, wide and full of wonder, in contrast to Kiku's gentle smile and gaze.

"I don't like you," Yong Soo said, his voice flat and lifeless compare to his expression.

Kiku kept his friendly smile. "Our feelings are mutual, then."


	9. Chapter 9

_Oh my god!_

_He's not breathing!_

_What happened? What happened with that truck?_

He hears these voices, even when he's awake.

* * *

And sometimes Yao doesn't handle them well. Sometimes, when he hears the ghost of Alfred's voice screaming into a cell phone, or when he hears a voice that sounds like Francis telling Feliciano 'Yao will be alright', he starts to cry. He cries and he hits a depressing slump. And when he's depressed and sobbing into his sleeve, Meimei asks him why he's sad and why he's depressed, and he hates to lie and say it's because _Feliks still hates me, aru._

And Yong Soo doesn't handle the voices well either. He was never a man to stand and be told something rude. He has to reply to whomever and whatever was being a jerk towards him or anyone else. But he had been informed by Kiku that he thinks out loud, so how can he swear at the voice and scream at it when people could hear him? Now he had to listen to the voice criticize him and derogate the way he thinks, tell him _Your aniki is such a liar_ and the Korean has to wait until he is alone before he can snap back _No, no, Kiku's the liar._ He has to wait until he's in his room to reply to _You're far too co-dependant_ in the form of a shaky voice saying _I can do what I want, you're too much like North._

They both want to handle the voices, but Yao doesn't have the same issue as his brother. Yao sees his friends screaming for him in his dreams, but he can't shake them out of hit, no amount of reassuring words stops them. He hears tires screeching and feels the impact of the end of the truck hitting him, air being punched out of his lungs while he crashes down onto the road while the tires roll over him, and there's white hot pain for a brief second. There's white and then black. Black for a few seconds rather than black forever. Yao hears pedestrians running around, and ambulance sirens, and Alfred offering to stay with the dying immortal while the paramedics asks him questions like who Yao is and what happened and then the police questioning the truck driver and then-

There's not a sound. Silence. As if he died. He thought he died until he woke up.

Yong Soo gets a voice that sounds just like him, but he can tell it's different. It's not a voice that nags you when you're doing something bad, like your conscience warning you, it's a voice you hear when you're slowly losing your touch with sanity. The voice he gets is flat, cynical, and uncaring. The only jokes Voice cracks are sarcastic, and the only joy visible is when Voice wins an argument. When Voice wins, Yong Soo grows homicidal and wants to kill it. As if Voice is a human being that can be physically destroyed. And to fulfill his fantasies, he gave Voice an appearance. The more he thought about it, the more Voice began looking like the Japanese man who lived down the hall from him. It's macabre but it makes Yong Soo eerily happy to destroy a nuisance in his life. Voice is Kiku, they're the same person, Yong Soo is sure of it.

Voice is a nuisance. Kiku is a nuisance. Nuisances only go away if you destroy them. Therefore, Yong Soo would continue to destroy Kiku in his mind. Even if aniki gets mad at him for thinking of such disturbing thoughts.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Hong Kong."

"Hello."

Hong Kong may've not turned around, but he still greeted his older brother. Greeted him in a dull, monotone voice, but still said hello (In contrast to Yao's peppy sounding hello). Hong Kong ended up glancing over to where Yao was, right next to him, who was opening the cabinet to get whatever he was interested in. Pulling down a bag of sweets - puffy looking chips that someone like Alfred would eat - Yao looked at Hong Kong and gave him a smile. Hong Kong looked from the smile to his eyes, which were once brown but now red, swollen and puffy, shining tear tracks down his cheeks. He had been crying again.

"Yao, your eyes look a bit-"

"Swollen?" Yao's joyful voice sunk to a depressed croak, "Kind of, but I'm fine, aru."

"What happened?" The boy asked.

"Nothing happened, aru."

"Clearly something did," Hong Kong put the glass he was drying down to turn to Yao. "Tell me."

Yao looked down, and then back up. "What do _you_ think, aru?"

What did he think? Hong Kong thought Yao just got the news that someone close to him just died (Irony, everyone loves you.) and he was just crying his heart out. Hong Kong opened his mouth, and then closed it, looking at the space next to Yao's head before completely glancing away. Then, he finally said, "I don't know."

"Exactly, nobody does," Yao heaved out, closing his eyes. Then, he opened them again and looked at Hong Kong. "Nobody really does, except Matthew, aru."

"And what does he know?" Hong Kong wasn't always too sure who 'Matthew' was, but he knew to not ask who he was all the time. Yao got insulted. Funny, they meet this friend of his every month during meetings, but they never remember.

Instead of becoming flustered and covering up his words - something he had been doing ever since the beginning of October - Yao smiled a little bit. "Everything that's wrong, aru. Everything that's made me sad recently, aru."

Hong Kong furrowed his brow. "I'm your brother, but you don't tell me first?"

"You don't know what's wrong, aru."

"Because you haven't told me."

"You wouldn't under _stand_ what's wrong, aru."

"Tell me."

Yao turned to the left and began to walk out of the kitchen. "No. I will not listen to you, you're younger than me, aru," He said, his voice dripping with disgust. Hong Kong went to grab him and he pulled away, beginning to stumble away. Hong Kong is quicker, he's not blinded from tears and weak from headaches, he grabbed Yao's arm with a hand wet with tap water.

"Look at me," Hong Kong snapped, squeezing his arm tight enough to put Yao in visible pain, "I said _look_ at me."

"You're _hurting_ me," Yao growled, and thrashed around a bit, ripping himself from Hong Kong's surprisingly strong grip. Here's the brother Hong Kong admires. Yao glared at Hong Kong with fury in his eyes, gritting his teeth and clenching his fist. Here he is, Hong Kong thought, here's the brother that is respected. Not a whiny, crying, delicate boy, but a strong, defiant, daring man who has survived for this long. Hong Kong sucked in air and waited for the slew of profanities, the demands for respect, the _fight._

And he walked away from him. The brother disappeared. It's gone, and the depression is back. Yao walked away, pulling his feet along the ground, out of the kitchen and away from the disappointed boy left behind. Hong Kong didn't blink or look confused; he just let the air he sucked in out of his lungs, similar to a sigh. It figures Yao would give up. The man turned, and was gone down the hall.

Yao lifted a hand, and pressed it against the wall. As he continued to walk, he dragged his nails against the wall, that was painted plain, light beige, little to no mark left behind. Yao's hand eventually fell, back to his side, and deliberately walked into his bedroom door. He bobbed his head back, hitting the door over and over, repeatedly cursing, "Damn it, damn it, damn it" every time his head hit the wood.

He wasn't exactly the cheeriest immortal anymore.

Yao suddenly heard a strange voice, nagging but oddly motherly and with maternal love lacing it. It spoke out in the back of his mind, sounding eerily like a certain Vietnamese woman; _"Yao, stop that. You'll worsen your headache."_

Pressing his forehead against the door one last time, Yao heaved a sigh, slowly feeling that headache 'Vietnam' just warned him about. Now 'Thailand' was going to start talking and try to comfort him, right? Sure.

Opening the door, he didn't quite walk in just yet. Part of his feet were in his room, his toes sticking in, but other than that, he just stood in the doorway and stared into his room. Jasmine scented sticks stuck out of little ceramic pots, letting the smell of jasmine float through his room and seep out into the hallway. The spill of wine from ages ago hadn't been cleaned up, so there was lingering stench of wine in this wonderful scent of jasmine. This was how he was, actually; just a small bit of wine ruining a jasmine scented world. A sore thumb.

He closed the door. He had to go talk to Yong Soo, actually, before he could go into his room.

* * *

"Hi, aniki."

No greeting in reply. Just a hug. Yao hugged Yong Soo, nuzzling up into his chest - he was taller, but Yao didn't care, he never cared if he had to look up at someone or down at them. So he looked up, looking at Yong Soo's somewhat confused face, smiling a bit to himself. Smiling at the warmth.

Something inside of him made something else 'click'; the warmth that Yong Soo gave off was unsettling, for Kiku wasn't like this. Neither was Hong Kong. Nor Meimei. He realized this before, but it was finally coming to him that Yong Soo would be his 'cause', the thing Matthew had told him was keeping him put here, where he should just go to sleep and wake up in a place that didn't have twisted relationships, altered history, and Yao himself wasn't off his rocker.

"What is it, aniki?" Yong Soo asked, "You alright?"

Yao felt a few tears well up in his eyes. Faking a yawn, Yao pulled away and rubbed his eyes to get rid of them. He smiled up at him again. "I just wanted a hug, aru."

Yong Soo, to his surprise, didn't break into a grin and pull Yao back into a hug, less of a hug and more of a death grip called a hug. He smiled a weak smile, and chuckled a bit. "You're weird sometimes."

And Yao didn't let surprise show. He gave a low laugh. "I am, aren't I."

_Your idol is changing,_ Voice said. Even though that snide and arrogant tone was still present, Yong Soo was rather please Voice sounded almost defeated.

_And he didn't say the little word tick,_ Voice snarled and smirked (Voice is very much like Kiku, neither smile. They smirk.) _Did you notice that?_

Can't speak.

_Come on! Say something,_ Voice said, in a rather mock-pleading tone. _Kiku's a liar, you don't talk out loud._

Yao turned away, and he may've said something like "See you in a bit". Yong Soo wasn't listening and he didn't care. "You're right, he's a liar."

_We see eye to eye on something._

"But why should I trust you?"

_When have you ever trusted Kiku in your life, with your life?_

Yong Soo was sure he could recall something. Try to remember a time where he loved Kiku and Kiku loved him. But Yong Soo only remembers being born on a battlefield, holding Alfred's hand and looking at North holding Ivan's. Taught to hate Kiku because of the things he learned about his brother and how he would do things to Mother Korea, like beat her and fight with her.

_You should hate 'aniki' too,_ Voice said, _he hurt you too._

"Kiku's worse," Yong Soo muttered again.

_Kiku, Kiku, Kiku. That's all it comes back to when you complain. Can't you ever blame something on Meimei, Hong Kong,_ Yao? _You ever think about the horrible things_ Yao _has done in his life? Yes, no one has clean history. But for some reason you dwell upon the things Kiku did but not the things Yao did. Didn't Yao help Ivan charge into the part of Korea your brother lives in now? He did. But forget that, Kiku's in trouble for_ breathing, _for_ existing. _He's done terrible shit but you live by a 'never forgive, never forget' rule. And that lifestyle isn't the best one to live by. Yao hurts you with favourism. Favourism to Meimei when she's happy, Hong Kong when he looks 'so cute' when mad, Kiku's everything, and you? The fact you're cozy to lean against. Are you going to complain about that? Yes. Who will you blame it on? Someone else._

"Fuck you." The swear left a bitter, disgusting taste on the Korean's tongue. So much that he hand to clench his fist and bring it to his mouth, coughing into it, trying to get that bad taste out of his mouth. But he didn't feel guilty about it. Just disgusted at the strange feeling left in his mouth. He glared ahead, fixating on the mirror just a bit to the right of him. "Yeah, fuck you and everything you may be worth."

* * *

Yao lifted up the receiver and punched in Matthew's phone number, literally hitting the numbered keys, harder with the more numbers he punched in. When he finally stopped rushing and the dial tone turned into a ringing sound, his index finger was feeling somewhat sore.

"Hello?"

"Matthew, I'm pretty sure I know what it is, what's keeping me here," Yao said, tripping over his own words as he spoke.

The Canadian paused. He cleared his throat before he spoke. "Really, now?"

"Yes." Were was the emotion in his voice, the rise and fall of his accent, the word tick and overall character in him? He seemed to be and older version of Hong Kong the more he spoke, and that bothered him. He didn't want to be as expressionless and melancholic as Hong Kong.

Another pause. And then Matthew spoke slowly, "What is it, then?"

Yao seemed to suddenly choke on his sibling's name. It was his turn to clear his throat, and then sucked in air before he spoke. "Yong Soo, and I'm pretty sure of it. I'm sure he's that block we talked about."

Matthew gave a shaky laugh, awkward and flustered. Yao could've described it as cute, but he could've also described it as stupid. "Well… that's great! How are we gonna get you back, then?"

"I'm going to kill him," Yao said, before he even realized what he said. Before he could take it back and apologize, Matthew was se off.

"You couldn't possibly do that! You CAN'T do that! He's your brother and he's important to you! I wouldn't dream of killing Al if I was in your place! I'd swallow whatever pride I have left by this point and stay in the weird life I got stuck in!"

Yao's face darkened. Any sense of regret from his last proclamation melted away and was replaced with the feeling of being insulted. "Did you just say… "Whatever pride I may have left by this point"?"

"… Yeah, I did."

"Are you suggesting I have no pride?"

"Never said that," Matthew replied just as darkly, "But I am going to suggest that you have no sanity if you can talk about murdering someone in such a calm voice."

"Before you set off and called me prideless, I was about to apologize for saying such a thing. I didn't mean to sound so vicious."

"Then what did you mean to sound like? Happy? Giddy? "Just gonna kill my good brother, aru!"? Well, I just figured out you _are_ prideless."

"Who do you think you are," Yao hissed, gritting his teeth and pulling his lips back, spit shining on his teeth with venom dripping from his words, "Where you think you can call me prideless?"

"Treat others they treat you is what Arthur told me," Matthew spat into the phone.

"Didn't he teach you to show your elders respect, too?"

"He did," Matthew snapped again, probably with a smirk on his face, "And he told me to treat animals like animals, too."

And with that, Yao slammed the phone down, and then pushed the phone off the side table it sat on, and then kicked it away once it hit the floor. The receiver and actual telephone soared away from him, crashing against the wall. Yao breathed heavily, slowly, opening his hands and snapping the shut, grabbing air and squeezing it.

"I can do this without your help," He growled at the broken telephone on the ground, "I don't need your useless help, you disrespectful burden."

* * *

Kiku was having a dream he was being attacked by Yong Soo. They weren in an unknown room in the house they shared, Kiku's blood pooling around him and staining both of their clothing. Yong Soo was rid of all emotion besides anger, staring down at Kiku with wrathful eyes while he killed him, and all Kiku could do was be silent while he stared up at him, looking right at those wrathful eyes. Suddenly, there was a bang, and for a second he thought it was a gunshot, so Kiku shut his eyes and prayed, _Yes! Shoot him! Shoot him and save me!_

But it wasn't a gunshot. It was a part of the house making a noise in the middle of the night. Kiku woke up from the no-good dream and looked at his arms, his torso and legs; no stab wounds, no bruises, no blood, and more importantly, no Yong Soo. The Korean was off in his own room down the hallway, dreaming peacefully, sound asleep. Kiku sat up and glance at the wall, seeing a painting of the sea nearby the sore, a few cranes standing in the low tide. It was difficult to see, for not even the moon was shining through his window tonight. Kiku looked from crane to crane - eight in total - and he was beginning to wonder if cranes belonged in an ocean scene at all. It was a question one does not usually ponder on, unless you were the painter contemplating whether or not they should add cranes or just draw the tide coming it.

Kiku held his head in his hand, sighing. He wondered if Yong Soo thought he, Kiku Honda, was stupid. Kiku wasn't very 'up to date' on things his people were doing, but that didn' make him slow and stupid to realize Yong Soo hated him more each and every day. Kiku presumed it was due to the fact Yao liked him more? The two of them had their difficulties in the past, and he was sure there would be difficulties between them in the future. But, as of now, Yao would be more willing to go on a walk with Kiku than with Yong Soo. Kiku, sighing again, fell back down, lowering himself onto his pillow, closing his eyes. The image of Yong Soo sitting onto of him with a pillow in his hands, covering Kiku's head and smothering him suddenly flashed into his mind. Groaning, Kiku pulled the covers tighter around him, promising himself he wasn't going to become paranoid over his little brother killing him in his sleep.

But he still cracked open an eye to make sure Yong Soo wasn't sitting overtop of him. Just to make sure.

Better safe than sorry, after all.


End file.
